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“ have a message and a gift for thee, King Olaf.' ” 

(Page 247.) 



THE SAGA OF 
JARL THE NEATHERD 

A Fairy Story of another 
Land and Time 



WRITTEN BY 


m'ESCOTT-INMAN 


Author of '•'‘The Patty fats," "The Nidding Nod * 
'‘'The Admiral and J" etc,, etc. 


CHICAGO 

RAND, McNALLY & CO, 

PUBLISHERS 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Cooies Received 

DEC 30 1905 

CopyriffM Entry 

3 

CLASS <X XXc. No. 

/ S 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1905, 
by Rand, McNally & Company. 


TO MY DEAR LITTLE FRIEND 


ARCHIE CARTER 

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY HIS SINCERE 
FRIEND AND WELL-WISHER 


THE AUTHOR 




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LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR 


M y Dear Archie, — 

You are such an inveterate devourer of all 
my fairy tales, that I have taken the liberty of dedi- 
cating this one to you yourself, more especially as in it 
I have to speak of a young gentleman who managed 
to kick his slippers off. Nothing personal, of course. 

It is rather a different sort of tale to my others ; 
but it is about people of whom I am very fond of 
reading : the stout old warriors of ancient Norway, the 
sea-kings of their day, as we, their children — for to a 
great extent we are descended from them — are sea- 
kings to-day. 

I am a sea-king, you know — see-king, not to go to 
sea. Let us be serious. When you are grown up, 
quite grown, you should read about them. It is de- 
lightful creepy reading, full of fights and giants, and 
bears and all manner of uncomfortable creatures who 
lived in the good old times. Some of them were grand 
heroes too, brave true soldiers, though they were 
pagans. 

Well, the story is just about them, and somewhere 
hidden away in it there is a sort of moral. Jarl had 
to fight his way from slavery to freedom and honour ; 
and so must you and I fight up and up, and on and on, 
till we have “ more than conquered.” 

Hoping you will like the book. 

Your sincere Friend, 

H. ESCOTT-INMAN. 



I 

{ 

I 

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I 



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TO EVERYBODY 
IN ANSWER TO ALL QUESTIONS 

T his little bit comes before the beginning, but you 
had better read it ; then you will know as much 
of what the story is going to be about as I do myself, 
and that is not much. Now then, pay attention. 

The saga of Jarl the Neatherd, who was born-thrall 
to Jarl Hilderbrand, and who himself came to be Jarl 
of all the West coast, under King Olaf, who is called 
the White Olaf. 

Of his childhood and youth — of how he wrestled 
with Harold Wolfang, and went holmgang with Black- 
wolf the Viking. 

Of his fightings and warring— of how he conquered 
the giant Ulf — of his friendship with Vreyda the Wise, 
and his love for Droma the Golden Haired — of his 
vanquishing the berserker — ^his journeys and perils — 
of these and many other things — this is the saga. 

There you are ! What do you think of that, eh ? 
Is not that something like the way to begin a fairy tale ? 
Just let us go through it again. 

The saga of Now then ! What is it ? You 

want to know what a saga is ! What ! ! You want 
to know what a saga is ! Well, there, I never did ! 
Such ignorance, not to know what a saga is I Dear 
me ! Tut, tut ! 


9 


10 


TO EVERYBODY 


Well, a saga is — now pay attention, because this is 
valuable information — a saga is Are you listen- 

ing ? A saga is — why, a saga, of course. What else 
did you think it would be ? Did you think it was a 
motor car, or a new kind of hat ? A saga is a saga, 
and if you were not so ignorant, and had studied your 
multiplication tables carefully in your geography books, 
you would know that saga is the Norse for a story. 

No, no ! I didnH say that saga meant a norse. A 
norse, indeed ! What is a norse, I should like to know ? 
Oh ! A horse ! Oh ! ! ! 

Please do not try another pun like that — I shall lose 
my head if you do, and then you will lose your tale. 

Now let us proceed with our observations. Saga 
is a word which means a tale. Just think of that ! 
If ever you go to ancient Norroway and want to hear 
a tale, just ask for a saga. I don’t mean if you want 
a sheep’s tail or a dog’s tail ; they do not call them 
sagas. 

Very well ! Next boy ! Second class in writing 
stand up, and we will get right into the story at once. 
Saga means story ! Now what next ? Let us get 
all the questions over at once, if we can. 

What is a neatherd ? Now this is terrible ! Cannot 
you answer that for yourself ? Why, a goatherd is 
one who looks after goats, and a gooseherd is one who 
looks after goose, and a shepherd is one who looks 
after sheps, and a coward is one who looks after cows, 
and a swineherd is one who looks after bacons, and 
a neatherd is one who looks after neats. There you 
are ; quite plain that, I am sure ! 

What ! Not plain ! Not Plain ! ! Why, that bit 
would do for an encyclopedia ; it is quite as clear as 


TO EVERYBODY 


II 


a good many things in that. What is not plain about 
it ? What is a neat ? 

Well, there ! What are the Board schools for I 
want to know ? What is a neat ? A neat what ? — 
room or house, a neat girl or a neat boy ? A neat boy 
is an impossibility — never has been such a thing. 

You mean what is the sort of neat that the neatherd 
neats — I mean herds. I shall be ill before the story 
starts if this goes on much longer. Oh ! I see — WTiat 
is a neat ? Well, why could you not ask me that at 
first ? What, you did ! Oh, what a story ; you did 
not. You asked me what a saga was first. What is 
a neat ? You put me into an ’eat with your ques- 
tions. Well, a neat was a sort of animal — I don’t quite 
know what ; but it must have had feet and been very 
greasy, because you can buy neat’s foot oil, to rub on 
your boots when you have been out in the snow and 
made them very wet, and they have got stiff and harsh. 
It smells rather nasty too ; and if you drop it about, 
it changes. What do I mean ? Just what I say : if 
you drop neat’s foot oil about, it isn’t neat, it’s very 
untidy and dirty. 

Any more questions before I have quite fainted ? 
You’d best hurry them up if there are. 

What do I mean by Jarl ? Why Jarl, of course. 
You don’t think I mean Tommy Treacleface or Sally 
Slapdash, do you ? Jarl is Jarl ; and in Norse the 
word means Earl. So if ever you go to Norroway, and 
wanted to recite the “ May Queen,” you would have 
to say, “ If you’re waking call me jarly ; call me 
jarly, mother dear,” and that does not sound quite 
right somehow. 

Very well. Now we ought to be done with ques- 


12 


TO EVERYBODY 


tions, because you will find out all about the rest in 
the story ; and if there is anything that you are not 
quite sure about, we will ask the printer to put in the 
explanation in very small type, so as not to interrupt 
the story too much. 

Bless me, how time does fly ! It seems only the 
other day that I was writing about The Admiral and /, 
and here we are again wanting a fresh fairy tale already. 

Well, now about this saga. It is a real live fairy 
tale, only it is a fairy tale of another land, and of 
another people, old-fashioned people who used to do some 
very remarkable sorts of things ; but, however, I think 
we shall manage to understand what it is about, and 
if we do not, well, we shall be just as wise as we should 
be otherwise. 

Now then, let us begin. Question time is over, and 
we must get to business ; so turn over and begin 
Chapter I, and there you are, don’t you know. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I About the Great Earl Hilderbrand , . 15 
II About the Feasting at the Castle ... 28 

III Of the Slaying of the Werewolf ... 38 

IV The Iron Collar 52 

V How Crawilla Tempted Jarl 61 

VI How THE White Olaf came to Jarl ... 74 

VII Vryda the Wise gives Jarl the Magic Shoes 83 
VIII How THE Magic Shoes hurt Jarl ... 93 

IX How Prince Olaf the White swore Friend- 
ship WITH Jarl 103 

X How Harold Wolfang went to his Father 114 
XI Why Red Sweth’s Charm was Spoilt . . 124 
XII Of the Wrestling of Jarl and Wolfang . 134 

XIII How Crawilla and Red Sweth Plotted 

Evil against Jarl 144 

XIV How Gunhilda the fair was Angered . . 158 

XV How Vryda the Wise came to Jarl . . . 170 

XVI ^ Of the Strange Men who came to Jarl 179 
XVII How Jarl, the Son of Olin, kept his Word 190 

XVIII How Jarl Olinson was made Landless Man 202 
XIX How THE Three Troll Princes Appeared 

TO Jarl 212 

XX How Red Olaf saw the Troll Princes . 222 

XXI How Droma the Golden-Haired was 

Stolen Away 231 

13 


CONTENTS 


14 

CHAP. PAGE 

XXII How King Olaf the Red was Wounded 245 

XXIII How Jarl went Holmgang with the 

Viking Chief 257 

XXIV How Jarl and White Olaf came to help 

Hilderbrand 271 

XXV How Jarl went to Search for Lady 

Droma 287 


XXVI How Harold Wolfang went to Steal 

Droma and Met Jarl 297 

XXVII How Jarl Slew Harold Wolfang , . 307 

XXVIII How Ulf the Giant was Vanquished . 316 

XXIX How Lady Gunhilda the Fair was 

Missing 325 

XXX The End of the Witch and the Warlock 337 

XXXI The Last 347 


CHAPTER I 


ABOUT THE GREAT EARL HILDERBRAND 

T he saga of Jarl the Neatherd, who was born-thrall 
to Jarl Hilderbrand, and who himself came to 
be Jarl of the West coast, under Olaf, called the White. 

Of his childhood and youth — of how he wrestled with 
Harold Wolfang, and went holmgang with Blackwolf 
the Viking. 

Of his fightings and warrings — of how he conquered 
Ulf the Giant — of his friendship with Vreyda the Wise 
and his love for Droma the Golden Haired — of his van- 
quishing the berserker — of his journe}^ and perils — of 
these and many other things — this is the saga. 

Long ago in far away Norroway, there once lived a 
mighty warrior called Jarl Hilderbrand. His castle 
was built on the top of the high cliff, at the foot of 
which, all the long winter through, thundered and 
stormed the dark sea waves. 

But little cared Jarl Hilderbrand for their storming, 
as he sat in the great hall of his castle, feasting amidst 
his warriors and listening to the songs of the gleemen 
as they sang of his deeds of daring and of his victories. 
Five hundred men feasted with Jarl Hilderbrand ; and 
each of them was as true to him as the steel they wore ; 
ready to go where he bade, and do what he list. 


i6 


THE SAGA OF 


Down at the cliff foot, cutting into it like a deep 
crack, was a fiord — a narrow arm of the sea running, 
like a canal, inland to the town — and in this, safe from 
storm or foe, his great warships rested, ready to be 
manned at a moment’s notice and go sweeping across the 
waves, driven by oar and sail. All men feared and loved 
and honoured J arl Hilderbrand. They feared him w'hen 
his anger was aroused, for he never rested till he had 
punished the wrongdoers ; he never turned back from 
the foe, be they as many as they might, or be the fight 
by land or sea ; and they who wronged Jarl Hilder- 
brand or those who were his friends, were sure to hear 
his war-song and see the red flames rise as he fired 
their houses. 

Men loved him, because he was ready ever to forgive 
a vanquished foe if he sought for mercy ; and his hand 
was open to the poor and weak, let them be who 
they might. 

And they respected him, for his word was never 
given to be broken, and his troth was ever kept. 

Such was the great warrior Jarl Hilderbrand, who 
owned many a town and land in ancient Norroway. 

Many were the men he ruled over ; many the thralls 
— as they called the slaves — ^who called him master ; 
and many the freemen who held their fields from him. 

When war was in the land the people brought their 
goods, their wives, and little ones into his great castle, 
and the gates were shut, and warders kept watch 
every hour ; but when it was peace-time the gates 
were ever open, and all who list might enter, be they 
rich or poor, and know that there was food and shelter 
and fire for them in the castle of Jarl Hilderbrand. 

A fine and mighty man was he ; though perhaps, in 


JARL THE NEATHERD 17 

these days, we should have thought him very strange 
if we could have seen him. 

His hair was long, and plaited into great tails, which 
hung down to his shoulders; and his moustaches 
drooped down till they mingled with the plaits ; while 
his long beard almost hid the shirt of chain-mail he 
wore upon his body. 

Grand did he look in peace-time, when his great 
mantle of wolf-skin was hanging from his shoulders, 
fastened by two great emeralds ; but grand did he 
look in war-time, when his crimson cloak waved above 
his armour ; and his helmet, with the golden wings on 
either side, glistened in the sunlight. By his side hung 
his great war-axe ; and from his belt was suspended 
his sword ; and men said that there were few in all 
Norroway who could swing that axe or use that sword 
and not grow feeble from their weight. And wonder- 
ful were the stories the minstrels told of all the deeds 
he had done, and of the foes he had slain ; so wonderful 
that if we were not going to tell the story of Jarl the 
Neatherd, we might have a good time talking about 
Hilderbrand and aU his mighty deeds. 

I have told you that he had five hundred men-at- 
arms in his hall ; but they were not all who called him 
lord. No, were it war-time, and did the warders 
sound the great war-horns from the castle tower, there 
would come trooping in from the farms, and from the 
river, and from the fishing village, and from the snowy 
mountains, five hundred more men, all of whom had 
left their homes to come and do their duty and fight 
for their Jarl ; so Hilderbrand was not only braver and 
more famous, but he was more powerful than any Jarl 
in Norroway. 


B 


i8 


THE SAGA OF 


Now away inland, where the sound of the waves 
could not reach, and where they were not even able to 
see the castle wherein Jarl Hilderbrand feasted, there 
dwelt a sturdy man and his wife, both of whom were 
thralls of Hilderbrand’s. They dwelt in a rough cabin 
made of logs, in the midst of a thick and dark pine 
forest, where the trees grew so close that two men might 
not ride side by side for them ; where, in the warm 
summer, the flowers grew thick ; but where in the 
winter the wind stormed and raged and the trees 
groaned and shook, as the storm makers flew by on 
the clouds. 

It was dreary in the forest then, for the wolves 
howled all the night long, and the bears would come 
grunting and sniffing to see if they could not find some 
nice fat pig for their dinner. 

For you must know that Olin was one of the Jarl’s 
swineherds, and his business was to tend the great 
droves of pigs that ran grunting and burrowing amidst 
the forest trees, growing fat on the roots and nuts 
which were so plentiful there. 

That was easy work in the summer, for then the 
wolves were far away in the mountain. But when 
winter came, and the frost-king swept from the hills 
over all the land, he drove the wolves before him down 
to the lowlands ; and then Olin had to watch very 
carefully, or they and the bears would have soon 
stolen all his pigs, and he would have been beaten for 
being so careless. 

But for all that, Olin and Elsper, his wife, were 
happy enough ; and they loved the forest wherein 
they dwelt, and understood all its language, from the 
creak of the pine branches to the song of the wild 


JARL THE NEATHERD 19 

birds, from the chatter of the squirrel to the grunt of 
the bears. 

Round Olin’s neck was fastened a collar of iron, 
just like we should put a collar on the neck of a dog, 
and on the collar was written : “ Olin, the bom- thrall 
of Jarl Hilderbrand,” which meant that the swine- 
herd was one of the Jarl’s slaves, and that no man 
might set him free, save his master himself, or King 
Olaf, did he so choose. 



OLIN — THE SWINE HERD, 


Elsper was a born-thrall too ; but she wore no 
collar, for Jarl Hilderbrand was thoughtful, and said 
that such trinkets were not for women to wear. The 
swineherd and his wife were very happy though they 
were slaves, for they loved each other very much, 
and they loved good Jarl Hilderbrand too, and thought 
it a good thing to tend the pigs and see that the bears 
and wolves did not take them away. 


20 


THE SAGA OF 


And, if need be, Elsper could do that almost as well 
as Olin ; and once when two grim wolves had come 
to the cottage in the depth of winter, when Olin was 
away, Elsper had taken the great axe and put the blade 
in the fire till it glowed red-hot, and then she had gone 
bravely and slain the wolves that were trying to find 
a way into the pigstyes ; so that she had shown the 
skins to Olin when he came home, and Jarl Hilder- 
brand, when he heard of this, had sent her money and 
food, and told her he would have the skins put in 
his great hall, to teach men how brave a woman 
could be. 

There was only one thing the swineherd and his 
wife minded the forest for, and that is they feared 
that some day the mountain trolls — the strange fairy 
miners — might come from the mountains and work 
them some harm ; or that the gnomes who live in the 
caverns and secret places of the forest, and who come 
out when the moon is bright, to dance and to gather 
dewdrops, might cast spells upon them. 

That troubled them sometimes ; but, as Elsper said, 
they had never done the fay folk any harm, so why 
should they fear them ? 

Then they had one more trouble, they had no little 
children in their home. Perhaps it was that living 
in the forest the fairies had not seen them when they 
brought the little babes from the sunbeam-land ; but 
certain it is they had never brought one to Olin and 
Elsper, in the cabin deep in the dark forest. 

“ Still,” said Olin to his wife, “ we have each other, 
dear wife, and we love each other, so what matter ? 
One day the fay folk will remember us, perhaps.” 

“ Perhaps it is as well,” answered his wife, “ for if 


21 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

they brought us a little son we should have to put an 
iron collar on him, as the Jarl’s thrall.” 

Now Olin laughed at this, for in Norroway people 
were used to being thralls, and it seemed a little thing 
to fret for, seeing he had a good master and enough 
to eat and drink. 

So Olin kissed his wife and laughed ; and then he 
picked up his stout spear and strode into the forest, 
for it was time to see that the pigs were coming home. 

Now Elsper sat alone in the doorway of the cabin, 
leaning her chin on her hand and thinking ; and though 
she knew she was thinking, yet she could not say what 
her thoughts were about. It was fast growing dark, 
for the winter had come early and the frost was cover- 
ing all the earth and shutting up the brooklets in icy 
coverings ; and lo and behold ! as she sat there think- 
ing, Elsper saw a wondrous sight, for she saw five little 
men, no bigger than her finger, and they came creeping 
out of the forest shade, like shadows, and peering into 
the few blossoms that were left, in the hopes of finding 
a little honey or dew left there. 

But alas and alack ! the bees had taken the honey, 
and the frost had drunk the dew, and there was never 
a drop for the five little men ; so that they wrung their 
little hands and cried bitterly, and the sound of their 
tears was like the soft pattering of the summer 
rain. 

Now Elsper, as she sat and watched, was very 
frightened at first, for she made sure that these were 
mountain trolls who had come down to play some 
wicked pranks upon her and her husband — perhaps 
to make the pigs run loose, or to turn all the goats’ 
milk sour — and she just sat watching, hardly daring 


22 


THE SAGA OF 


to breathe, and fearing every minute that they would 
see her and cast their spells upon her. 

But when she saw them crying, her own gentle heart 
was touched, for she thought that if it was bad for 
great mortals to be cold and hungry it must be far 
worse for little trolls not bigger than your finger ; so 
she just got up very quietly, and she stole into the cabin 
and got some nice sweet milk, and warmed it and put 
it into a little basin, and then she swept up the hearth 
very neatly, so the place would look comfortable, 
and she hid behind the open door and waited, for she 
thought that for sure the little trolls would smell the 
milk and come and take it, though she feared that they 
would be angry if they thought she was looking at 
them. 

So she hid and peeped through the crack of the door, 
and soon she saw the five little men cease crying and 
wringing their hands, and they lifted their little noses 
and sniffed and sniffed, like little pigs who smell new 
wash ; and then they crept very quietly to the cabin 
door and looked in, and there was the neat hearth 
and the glowing fire and the basin of warm sweet 
milk, and some little pieces of bread broken up very 
small, so that they could eat it. 

Just like little mice peep from their holes, half- 
frightened to come out and eat the crumbs, so the five 
little men peeped round the door and looked at the 
basin of milk, and sniffed and sniffed, for it smelt very 
good that cold winter’s afternoon. 

Then they crept in, oh so softly, and they looked 
round ; and they all nodded their little heads and 
rubbed their hands. 

They saw the tidy hearth, and the crumbs, and the 


23 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

milk, and they rubbed their hands and nodded ; and 
then they all sat down before the fire, and dipped the 
crumbs into the milk, and seemed to be enjoying them- 
selves very much, while Elsper stood behind the door 
peeping through the crack ; and her heart went pat, 
pat, pitter-pat with fear, to think that the trolls were 
really in her house, eating the crumbs and drinking 
the milk. 

Then, while they were eating, there came another 
sound — a pat, pat, pat, pat, over the snow ; and a great 
gaunt wolf, with lolling tongue and with wicked eyes, 
peeped in at the door, and sniffed and sniffed, and he 
said — 

“ Ah, little brothers, what are you doing ? ” 

Then the five little men said, all together — 

“ We are having our supper, for we are hungry.” 

Then the wolf answered, smacking his lips — 

” I am hungry, and want my supper, but Olin has 
a spear and is with the pigs, so I dare not go for them ; 
but Elsper, hiding behind the door, will do as well, so 
I will eat her.” 

Now you may think how frightened Elsper was when 
she heard this ; and she was quite as frightened that 
the trolls should know she was watching them as she 
was that the wolf wanted to eat her for his supper. 
So frightened was she that she did not dare to move, 
but could only stand silent and trembling. But the 
little men jumped up and ran to the wolf, and began 
beating him so dreadfully that he cried out with pain. 

“ You shall not touch Elsper, for she has given us 
our supper,” they cried ; “ and we will guard all 
Olin’s pigs, so that not one shall be eaten by you,” 
and at this the wolf ran away. 


24 


THE SAGA OF 


Then the little men went back to their supper, and 
Elsper stood quite still, for she did not know if they 
would like her to come out ; and as she stood, she 
heard something coming, pat, pat, pat, pat, and 
then a great bear looked in at the door, and he grunted - 
“ Hey, little brothers, what are you doing there ? ” 
And the little men answered — 

“ We are having our supper, for we are hungry.” 
Then the bear smacked his lips, and he growled — 

“ I am hungry, and want my supper, but Olin has 
a spear, and he watches the pigs so that I dare not go 
for one. But Elsper, hiding behind the door, has no 
spear, and she will do for my supper.” 

This dreadful speech made Elsper more frightened 
than ever, for she made sure the little men could never 
drive the bear away as they had done the wolf ; but, 
to her surprise, they jumped up and began beating 
the bear so that he did not know what to do to get 
away from them, and they cried — 

“You shall not touch Elsper, for she has given us 
our supper, and we will guard Olin’s pigs, and not one 
shall be eaten by you,” and at this the bear ran away, 
and the little men came back and sat down again 
before the fire, while Elsper still stood trembling and 
peeping through the crack of the door. 

Then suddenly she saw a horrid looking little man, 
and an old woman with a dreadful wicked face, peering 
into the room ; and she felt quite sure that the man 
was a real wicked troll and the woman was a witch ; 
and she felt ready to die with fear as the old woman 
cried out — 

“ So, so, fairy trolls ! You have found food and 
fire, have you ? But I will be the enemy of those who 


25 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

have helped you. I know that you are going to bring 
Elsper a little son, but we will be his foes and will kill 
him if we can.” 

“ And I will be his friend, and help him if he will 
let me,” said a sweet voice, and Elsper saw that a httle 
old woman, with a kind smiling face, had also come up 
and was standing between the witch and the door, 
so that she and the wicked troll could not pass. 

Now when the witch saw this httle old woman she 
cried out as if she had a very bad pain inside, and she 
picked up the wicked troll and flew up into the air, 
crying out — 

Vryda Vryda this you know. 

Ever more I’ll be your foe ; 

Little Jarl my foe shall be; 

I will conquer yet you’ll see. 

But the little old woman paid no heed to her, only 
stepping into the cabin and saying to the little men 
as they bowed to her — 

“ TroUs, trolls, have you had your supper ? ” and 
all the little men answered — 

“ Oh, Vryda, we have had our supper.” 

“ And what have you had for supper, trolls ? ” 

“ We have had of the best Elsper could give us, 
warm sweet milk and bread ; and Elsper has tidied 
the hearth and made up the fire, and we are warm 
now.” 

“ And what shall we give Elsper in return ? ” asked 
the little woman; and the trolls said — 

“ Elsper, hiding behind the door and peeping through 
the crack, grieves that the fairies have not brought her 
a little son. Let us bring her one from the sunbeam 


26 THE SAGA OF 

land — a little son to bring honour to her and to Olin.” 

“ And what shall this little son be when he grows 
up ? ” asked the wise woman, and they answered — 

“ He shall be the neatherd and tend the oxen of 
Jarl Hilderbrand.” 

“ And what shall be his name ? ” asked the woman, 
and they cried again — 

“ Oh, Vryda, he shall have the name which Crawilla 
gave him — ^his name shall be Jarl.” 

“ Jarl ! ” answered Vryda. “ Jarl means an earl ; 
how can he be Jarl if he is a poor neatherd ? ” 

“ It shall be so,” said the five little trolls, holding 
each other’s hands. “The thrall Jarl shall become 
the earl Jarl, the noblest and best in the land, and when 
young Prince Olaf becomes king, Jarl shall be his 
champion and friend, and we will write it in runes on 
the diamond rock, so that it shall come to pass.” 

“ So shall it be,” answered Vryda. “ For Olin is 
brave and true, and Elsper has a kind heart, and has 
given you her best for supper. So from the sunbeam 
land my fairies shall bring her a little son.” 

Then there came the sound of soft music ; and 
though the night was fast coming on and the forest 
almost dark, one beautiful rosy sunbeam came shining 
through the darkness right into the room, making a little 
circle on the floor just before the tidy hearth and beside 
the empty basin ; and floating in that sunbeam were 
six little fairies, carrying a dear little sleeping baby, 
and they sang as they laid him down — 

Elsper, Elsper, fear not ; see 
What a gift we bring to thee. 

For the fire, milk, and bread. 

Little Jarl we leave instead. 


> 


“ In that sunbeam were six little jairies carrying a dear 
little . . . baby.” (Page 26,) 








JARL THE NEATHERD 


27 


He shall grow up wise and great, 

With a princess shall he mate. 

Jarl the Neatherd shall he be; 

Jarl the earl you too shall see; 

Brave and strong, and grand and gay. 

Best of Jarls in Norroway. 

Then the light died away, the song ceased, the fairies, 
the woman, the trolls, all were gone ; and there on the 
floor lay the sweetest little baby boy, with red-golden 
hair and blue eyes ; and when Olin came back from 
seeing the pigs all safely housed, there he found Elsper 
nursing her little son, the little baby Jarl ; and that 
is the end of the beginning of this story. 


28 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER II 


ABOUT THE FEASTING AT THE CASTLE 
OU may think how delighted Olin was when he 



1 found that the fairies had brought him and 
Elsper such a sweet little son ; and he was filled with 
wonder as he listened to the strange story which his 
wife told him, but at the same time he felt very relieved 
to think that the good trolls were his friends, and he 


said — 


“Now it was very fortunate that you set the milk 
and crumbs for the fay folks, dear wife ; for now they 
will be our friends, and our little son’s friends, and it 
will be a good thing if they guard my pigs from those 
rogues of wolves and bears, so that the J arl, our master, 
does not punish me because any are carried off.” 

“ It will be good, indeed,” answered Elsper, “ but 
Olin, I fear about that ugly-looking witch that they 
called Crawilla, for she threatened harm to us.” 

“ I have heard her name before,” answered Olin. 
“ She is a witch, and the friend of evil warlocks ; and 
she dwells on the other side of the mountain, where the 
storm witches live. But then, this wise woman I have 
also heard of. She is older than the oldest in Norroway, 
and she is one of the most powerful fairies. So do not 
fear, wife. If Vryda is our friend she will deliver us 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


29 

from the hatred of Crawilla, and make our son’s for- 
tune for him.” 

“ And we will call him Jarl,” said Elsper, kissing her 
baby boy. “The fairies bade us do so.” 

Now at this Olin stroked his beard and looked grave, 
and he replied in doubtful tones — 

“ In truth I am troubled about that, for how will 
Jarl Hilderbrand like that the son of his swineherd, 
and his born-thrall, shall be called a Jarl ? He may be 
angered, and have us whipped or sold, Elsper.” 

“ We must trust to the trolls to protect us,” was his 
wife’s answer. If we do as they say, surely they will 
keep their word to us.” 

“ Perhaps they wiU, Elsper. At any rate we can 
call the boy Jarl ourselves, even if Hilderbrand will 
not have him called so by others.” 

But it seemed as if the trolls were keeping their 
word very quickly ; for the next day there came the 
great Jarl himself, riding through the forest with all 
his freemen, while his dogs scampered this way and that, 
and his men blew cheery blasts upon their horns. 

Hilderbrand was in a merry mood and was going 
hunting the bears to punish them for stealing so many 
of the pigs from the different herds — and when he came 
to Olin’s cottage, there stood his swineherd bowing 
before him ; and he pulled up his steed and shouted — 

“ How now, Olin ! How many of thy charges have 
been lost this last week ? A score, at the least, I’ll 
be bound. My other swineherds have lost more than 
that — the lazy rascals, they snore by their fires instead 
of keeping guard. How many hast thou lost ? ” 

“ Not one pig is missing this week, Jarl Hilder- 
brand,” answered Olin, and the Jarl bent his thick 


30 THE SAGA OF 

fierce brows and pulled at his beard as he heard the 
answer. 

“ Not one, sayest thou ? ” he cried. “ Why then, 
thou must have kept watch well indeed. But what is 
that I hear ? Does not a babe cry in thy cottage ? ” 

So Olin bowed again and told the Jarl of all that had 
happened ; and as he listened, Hilderbrand sighed, 
for though he was the greatest in the land, the fairies 
had forgotten him when they brought the children from 
the sunbeam land, and there were no little ones 
belonging to him in the great castle. 

But when Olin had done, he lighted off his mighty 
horse, and he stooped low his head and entered the 
cottage ; and there sat the fair Elsper nursing her little 
one, and looking very scared, as if she feared that Hilder- 
brand would take her darling away from her. 

But the J arl had a good heart, and he thought what 
a pretty picture the little one made as he sat in his 
mother’s arms ; and his voice was softer than usual so 
that he might not frighten the child. 

“ Well, Elsper,” he said. “ So the good folk have 
brought you a gift ; and Olin tells me a strange tale. 
Tell me of it yourself, and how it all came about.” 

And he sat there in his swineherd’s humble cottage, 
leaning his arms on his great boar-spear, with his two 
favourite dogs resting their heads on his feet, and he 
listened to all Elsper had to say ; only frowning a little 
when she told him that the fairies had said she was to 
call her little one Jarl. That he did not like ; for how 
should a thrall be a Jarl of Norroway ? 

And now, as he sat listening, a strange thing came to 
pass, for his great heavy lord-ring which he wore on 
his hand as token of his being Jarl and lord, was being 


31 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

twisted round and round by his thoughtless fingers, when 
it fell from its place ; and just then the baby raised its 
tiny hand and the big ring, almost large enough for a 
bracelet for the little one, fell on his tiny finger, and 
stopped there. 

Elsper looked very scared indeed, for she believed 
that the Jarl would think this was a bad omen for him, 
and would be angered that the little finger had worn 
the lord-ring. But the Jarl did not frown — he gently 
took the ring back and put it in its place ; and he rose, 
saying— 

“ Elsper, there are strange things which we may not 
understand. His name shall be Jarl, for so the fairies 
have said ; and also he has worn the lord-ring ; and 
when he grows up he shall be neatherd, even as the wise 
woman said. And here,” he went on, ‘‘are some rings 
of gold for you and for Olin to sell, and to get things for 
this little Jarl, as a gift from his lord.” And with that 
Hilderbrand whistled his dogs and strode from the 
cabin ; and mounting his horse he rode off, making the 
woods ring with the blasts of his horn, and sending all 
the bears and wolves hurrying away from an enemy 
whom they had reason to dread so much. 

So Elsper’s little son was called Jarl in the sight 
of all men ; and people made fun of it, and laughed, 
but in a kindly way ; though some said that the babe 
was a changeling and a witch-child, and should be 
thrown into the great waterfall and destroyed before 
he grew up to work mischief. 

But Olin, when he heard that, took his stout staff, and 
he gave some a beating ; and when the Jarl heard of it, 
he cried out that Olin had done well and that no one 
should seek to harm his little brother Jarl, who was the 


32 THE SAGA OF 

swineherd’s son, and lived in the cabin in the great pine 
forest. 

But as days went by, and Jarl grew big enough to run 
about, he did not have ugly tusks, or squinty eyes, or 
any signs of a changeling child ; but he was just like 
other children, as full of mischief and fun, and for ever 
getting into some scrape ; so that though Elsper loved 
him, she often had to whip him for being naughty. 

And when the people saw that, and heard Jarl cry 
and yell just like other boys, and when they saw that 
he did not vanish away after a whipping, and did not 
cast any dreadful spells upon Elsper or Olin, they 
began to think that they had made a mistake, and that 
he was only just a common sort of boy after all. 

And bit by bit they forgot all about the strange 
story they had heard ; and did not think it at all strange 
that he was called Jarl. They saw he was just such 
a young rascal as their own boys ; and so the thing 
was forgotten, and even Jarl Hilderbrand had almost 
forgotten about it, for there had been war-time in the 
land and he had had man’s work to think of. 

But after the war-time was over a glad thing was 
heard all through the Jarl’s realm ; for the fairies, who 
had forgotten him so long, had remembered at last, 
and they had brought to the great castle a dear little 
baby girl, with the bluest of blue eyes, like the summer 
sky in the morning, and the most beautiful of golden 
hair ; and though Hilderbrand would have wished that 
they had brought him a little son, who might have 
grown up to be a mighty Jarl in his place; still he loved 
the little one very dearly, and gave a mighty feast to 
all, high and low ; and for three long days and nights 
they feasted and rejoiced, and listened to the minstrels 


JARL THE NEATHERD 33; 

as they sang of the little Droma, the Jarl’s golden- 
haired daughter. 

Now amongst others who came to the feasting were 
Olin and Elsper ; for the wise woman Vryda had come 
to their cabin and bidden them go. 

“ But,” said Olin, “ if I go, who will tend my pigs ? 
Duty must be done, good mother.” 

“ My trolls shall tend thy charges, Olin,” answered 
Vryda. “ Do you go and do my bidding ; and when 
you go, you are to place this in Jarl’s hand and leave 
him free to do as he will with it,” and Vryda gave a 
beautiful necklet to Olin as she spoke. 

“ Tis made of the magic crystal, from the trolls’ 
caves,” she said, “ and it has many charms.” 

“ But, good mother,” said Olin, “ Jarl will surely lose 
it ; for he is a careless boy. Only to-day he lost one 
of his shoes down the well.” 

Vryda looked grave at this, and she said — 

“ Little Jarl, little Jarl, you must keep your shoes 
on, or thine enemies will bring disgrace to you. Mind 
you do not lose your shoes to-day.” 

“ He will lose the necklet,” said Olin again. “Better 
far let me keep it for him till he grows up.” 

“ Nay,” said Vryda. “ That will not do; he must 
have it to-day, and whatever he does with it you must 
not hinder him, no matter what it may be or how much 
you may have cause to fear his deed. Will you promise 
me this, Olin ? ” And Olin said that it should be so. 

So to the feast of Jarl Hilderbrand came Olin and 
Elsper and their little son, and the child Jarl had the 
magic necklet round his neck ; though all thought it 
was but a common glass one placed there by his mother. 

The great men and the freemen sat in the upper hall, 

c 


34 


THE SAGA OF 


and at the very top, on a raised place, sat Jarl Hilder- 
brand and his lady Gunhilda, with the minstrels be- 
hind them. 

Then in the lower hall sat the common soldiers j 
and below them again the serfs and thralls ; eight 
hundred people feasted in the castle of Hilderbrand in 
those days of rejoicing; for it was peace-time, and harvest 
had been good ; and best of all there was the beautiful 
little Droma come from the sunbeam land. 

Now Droma was dressed in rich clothes, and lay in 
her nurse’s arms ; and she smiled at her father, and she 
smiled at her mother, but at none other she smiled at 
all ; and the wise people said that was unlucky, and 
would bring sorrow to the maid when she was grown up. 

Now on the third day, when the feasting was at its 
height, the gleemen sang a fresh song of little Droma ; 
and Jarl Hilderbrand rose and drew his great war-sword, 
and he cried to all there to do homage to their lady, the 
little Droma, who should rule in his castle, when he had 
gone to the stormland. And all men there rose and 
drew their swords, and shook their axes, and they lifted 
their big drinking horns and drank wassail for Droma 
the Golden Haired, and Hilderbrand looked with pride 
at his people, and he turned to the Lady Gunhilda and 
said — 

“ Fair love, my lady, why dost thou look so sad ? ” 
and she answered. 

“ The love of my heart tells me that danger is near 
our little Droma.” 

Then loud laughed Hilderbrand and shook his great 
sword lightly, and he said — 

“ Fair love, my lady, look at this brave blade, and 
look at the blades of my good men. Where is the danger 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


35 

that shall hurt Droma of the Golden Hair, while such 
a wall of steel is round her ? ” 

Little Droma was laying in her nurse’s arms as he 
spoke ; and scarcely had the words been uttered before 
a shrill voice answered the question, and said — 

“ Here, O Jarl Hilderbrand, is the power which shall 
hurt Droma the Golden Haired, even though a wall of 
steel is round her.” 

Then as they all looked up in fear and surprise, there 
was the witch Crawilla floating in the air, just like one 
of the storm-sisters rides on the clouds ; and beside 
her, writhing and hissing, was a monstrous serpent, 
with eyes that darted flame, and with mouth that 
breathed smoke and fire. 

So quick and sudden was all this that no one had 
time to move ; and with a laugh the witch pointed to 
the little Droma, and the great serpent darted down, to 
strike his fangs into the poor little babe. 

Strong men cried out and shuddered ; and the Lady 
Gunhilda shrieked in her dread ; for all thought that 
Droma must die ; when lo ! a wondrous strange thing 
happened — for a little brown arm stretched over the 
helpless Droma, and a little brown hand laid a crystal 
necklet upon the babe’s breast ; and then Crawilla gave 
a cry of rage and flew off, and the serpent disappeared 
no one knew where. 

And who was this who had saved Droma of the 
Golden Hair ? It was little Jarl who had stolen un- 
noticed from his mother’s side, and reached the dais 
without any one seeing him ; and just as the great snake 
came darting down, he had placed his necklet on 
Droma and so saved her life. 

Now at this every one marvelled ; but chiefly that 


THE SAGA OF 


36 

Droma, who had noticed none, opened her blue eyes 
and smiled at Jarl and held out her tiny baby hand to 
him ; and little Jarl who had been brought up in the 
forest, and who knew nothing of noble manners, 
sank on one knee and kissed that hand, just like a brave 
Jarl would kiss the hand of his lady when he rode away 
to fight in war time ; and besides this, he placed the 
necklet round little Droma’s neck, and no one, not even 
Hilderbrand, seemed able to interfere, and then, as the 
plain crystal rested on the white flesh of Droma of the 
Golden Hair, it flashed out into the most beautiful 
colours — colours like the waterfall spray makes in the 
sunlight, or the ice crystals show when the Northern 
lights dance upon them. 

Then this done, Elsper, fearing that her little son 
would be slain for daring to touch the little Droma, 
forgot all about not being allowed to enter the upper 
room ; and she ran forward and caught Jarl by the hand, 
seeking to lead him away. 

But then did Hilderbrand call to her and bid her 
bring Jarl to him ; and he looked very gravely and 
strangely at the little fearless lad, and stroked his beard 
thoughtfully ; and he questioned about the necklet that 
now lay upon the white neck of his own little daughter. 

Then did Elpser and Olin tell their story ; while the 
minstrels stood all silent, and the warriors bent forward 
to listen ; and Hilderbrand knew that it must be Vryda 
the wise woman who had given the necklet to Jarl, that 
he might save Droma from the power of the wicked 
witch. 

Lady Gunhilda kissed the little boy, and gave him 
presents ; but Hilderbrand sat thoughtful. 

Droma had smiled on the boy, and held out her baby 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


37 


hand and he had kissed it ; and the wise men said that 
this was a sign that the swineherd’s son and the Jarl’s 
daughter, had been playmates in the sunbeam land ; 
and that they knew each other here in the earth land 
and would surely grow up lovers, unless evil parted 
them, when neither would be happy more — and this 
saying vexed Jarl Hilderbrand ; for surely it would be 
a shameful thing for the swineherd’s son, and his thrall, 
to love the Lady Droma of the Golden Hair. 

Then he looked at the boy’s feet, and behold one foot 
was bare ; for Jarl had kicked off his shoe and it lay 
at the other end of the room close to where his parents 
had been sitting ; and Hilderbrand frowned still more, 
and said somewhat sharply that it was time for the 
feasting to stop, and that his swineherds must get 
back and tend their herds, and the neatherds see to the 
cattle — yet, for all that, he gave Olin a purse of golden 
pieces for the service he had rendered to his lord’s 
house that day. 

And this is what befell in the childhood of Jarl, and 
at the feasting in Hilderbrand’s house, when Droma 
the Golden Haired was brought by the fairies from the 
far-off sunbeam land. 


38 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER III 

OF THE SLAYING OF THE WEREWOLF 

N OW after this, days and years passed, bringing 
no strange thing. Little Jarl grew up to be a 
stout boy of fourteen, and helped his father with the 
swine ; and often did he earn a nod and a gift from 
Jarl Hilderbrand when he went to the castle on an 
errand, or when the Jarl passed through the forest 
hunting. 

And in the castle, little Droma grew up into a beau- 
tiful girl, the fairest in all the land of Norroway ; so 
that already her fame and her beauty were sung by the 
minstrels in many a Jarl’s castle, when the winter 
storms roared and the people gathered round the 
great fires, and drank the nut-brown ale. Often, too, 
did little Droma see Jarl, and never did she smile so 
sweetly as when she smiled at him ; and never was 
she so happy as when she was allowed to play with 
him, or to go to Elsper’s cabin and sit talking with her. 

It grieved the Lady Gunhilda somewhat ; but the 
Jarl would laugh and pull his beard, and say — 

“ Sweet love, my lady, they are but children. Thou 
wouldst not mind did our daughter make a friend of 
one of my good hounds here ; why then should she 
not make a pla5miate of my thrall’s son ? Let be, let 
be. Time enough later to alter things.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


39 


And some of his freemen who liked not to see the 
swineherd’s son playing with Droma of the Golden 
Hair, when their own children might not do it, said 
to Hilderbrand that this thing was shame, and that 
Jarl was now big enough to have an iron collar put 
on his neck, as all born -thralls had, and to be sent to 
his work properly. 

Still Hilderbrand could not forget that little Jarl 
had given his necklet to Droma and saved her life ; 
and though he frowned till one could scarce see his 
eyes, and though he pulled hard at his beard, he ever 
said — 

“ Let be, let be. There is time enough yet. Droma 
is but a child, and Jarl is like some faithful watchful 
dog, ever ready to guard her.” 

“ But,” said some, “ she goes too much to the cabin 
of Elsper. She wanders in the forest, and might be 
in danger.” 

But again Hilderbrand answered — 

“ While Jarl is with her, she will be in no danger. 
He is young and strong, and would give his life to 
save her, if need be.” 

Now that made the freemen more angry ; and they 
answered that no thrall wets truly brave, and that 
their sons were more fit to guard Droma, and that 
they would do battle for her valiantly ; and one, 
young Harold Wolfang, who was the son of Red Sweth, 
whom men called the red warlock — he boasted that 
he would do great things for the beautiful Droma ; but 
that a serf would run from a wild goose, did it but hiss 
at him. 

Then Hilderbrand looked at Wolfang, and he nodded. 

“ Thinkest thou so, Harold, son of Sweth ? ” he 


40 


THE SAGA OF 


answered. “ Perchance some day the chance may be 
thine, and then we will see how thou wilt play the 
man. But thou hast not been to the wars yet, and 
thou dost not know the man’s work. Time enough to 
boast, Harold Wolfang, when thou hast tested thyself 
more.” 

So, spite of all their enemies’ tongues, Droma still 
played with the son of her father’s swineherd ; and 
Jarl told her all about the forest creatures, and taught 
her to understand the forest voices, and to know 
where the wild birds nested and the best berries grew ; 
and Jarl himself roamed free, and never thought about 
wearing the iron collar that would mark him only as a 
born-thrall. 

And while this went on, all unseen by them, 
Crawilla would hide in the woods and glare at them 
with her evil eyes ; while the wicked trolls crouched 
by her side, wishing that they could work them harm. 

But the good trolls and the gnomes were there too, 
and they guarded the children ; and the magic necklet 
was ever on Droma’s breast to protect her ; and, 
moreover, though they did not know who she was, 
often the wise woman Vryda would meet them as they 
roamed in the wood, and smile upon them. Only 
sometimes she shook her head and frowned, for she 
would find Jarl without his shoes on ; and when she 
asked him why he was so careless, he would answer 
that the shoes were uncomfortable, and sometimes 
hurt his feet, and so he kicked them off. 

And once she said to him — 

“ Jarl, Jarl, we must not try to get rid of all that is 
uncomfortable and may hurt us a little ! There are 
other shoes that you will have to wear some day, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 41 

which will hurt you more ; and unless you will be 
willing to bear their pain, all my power to help you 
will go, and your enemies will conquer ! ” 

So she said ; but when Jarl asked her what she 
meant by that, she did but shake her head again, and 
tell him that he would learn in another time. 

Then came tidings that the Vikings from Juteland 
had come against Norro way, bringing fire and sword. 
So the war horns were sounded and Jarl Hilderbrand 
kissed his wife and daughter, and marched away to 
help King Olaf, whom men called the Red Olaf, drive 
the foe away and punish them for their deeds. Thus 
all the strong men were gone ; and only the old men 
and the boys left, with just a few sturdy thralls to 
keep guard of the Jarl’s lands ; and then came a ter- 
rible tale that a wicked and cruel werewolf was ravaging 
the land, and destroying all that he met ; and people 
grew pale and trembled for their lives, and hardly 
dared go out of doors for fear of meeting this terrible 
monster. 

The common wolves they minded little, for they 
often met them and slew them ; but then a werewolf was 
not a common wolf, but a man who had been changed 
into a wolf for his wickedness and cruelty by the 
mountain trolls ; and who was three times as strong 
and fierce as the fiercest wolf that ever howled on a 
winter’s night ; so what wonder that they feared this 
thing who killed just for the sake of killing, because 
he loved to see people suffer. Now, though many 
went to stay in the castle, seeing that it was war-time, 
Olin would not do so ; for he said he was quite safe 
in the forest, and that it was his duty to watch over 
the pigs and see them tended, even though all the 


42 


THE SAGA OF 


Vikings in Juteland should come upon the land and 
seek to destroy it. 

Elsper he bade go, but she would not leave him, and 
said she felt far more safe in the forest with him and 
Jarl to protect her than she would shut up in the 
castle, to which the Vikings would be sure to come 
first of all, did they ever manage to get by the warriors 
of Jarl Hilderbrand. 

J arl would have liked to go to the castle well enough 
for some things ; for then he would have seen Droma 
every day, and now he could not see her at all ; but 
for some things he was pleased to stay in the forest. 

First, he hated being shut up away from the fields 
and trees ; and then he was getting old enough to 
know that the sons of the freemen looked down upon 
him and called him a thrall and a slave, and spoke 
like that when Droma could hear ; and often he 
longed te run right away and make a name for himself, 
like the Vikings he had heard of ; and then come with 
fire and sword and carry Droma away ; for he felt 
sure that if they were both grown up she would not 
mind that at all. Indeed, that was a common way 
of going sweethearting in those old days. 

However, there was still another reason why Jarl 
was glad to stay in the forest. He hoped in a vague 
sort of way that he might have the chance of meeting 
a Viking who had managed to slip by the Jarl’s soldiers, 
and then if he could slay him, oh ! people would be 
sure to say then that no matter if he was a thrall he 
had done man’s work and was brave. 

But, alas ! no Viking came — the forest was quiet, 
and there was no chance of proving that he was brave. 
There was nothing fiercer than a hare, for the wolves 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


43 


and bears were all away in the mountain now and 
would not come back to the lowlands till the storm- 
sisters scattered the ice and snow at the winter-king’s 
orders; and that would not be yet for many a month. 

Jarl had heard his father and mother talk about the 
werewolf ; and that made him shudder, for even the 
bravest hunter, who would fight two bears at once, 
or the bravest soldier, who would laugh at any number 
of enemies, might well dread to meet the werewolf, 
who came rushing out when people did not expect 
him, and would tear and rend one ere he could do 
aught to defend himself. But nothing of the 
monster was seen. Indeed he had not been heard of 
nearer than the villages at the mountain foot, quite 
three miles away, so that it was very likely he would 
never travel their way at all. 

Just for a few days Olin and Elsper made Jarl keep 
within doors, but they soon got over their scare, 
though there came terrible tales of the monster’s 
doings in the less fortunate villages. 

Now, in the castle, Droma v/as pining to see Jarl, 
and not even the chiding of her mother, Gunhilda, 
could make her forget her playmate ; and one day, 
when the doors were open, she managed to slip out. 

It was just when tidings had come that Olaf and 
Hilderbrand had vanquished the foe and driven them 
away ; and people were getting ready to welcome the 
conquerors home ; and in the bustle and haste Droma 
of the Golden Hair slipped off, without even one maid, 
and ran to the forest where Jarl dwelt. 

Now when this was found out there was terrible 
trouble ; and Lady Gunhilda was very angry, and she 
commanded the seneschal to take men with him and 


44 


THE SAGA OF 


go to the forest, and if they should find Jarl talking with 
Droma that they were to whip him soundly. For 
she thought that if Droma saw him whipped as a slave 
she would be ashamed of having spoken to him. 

Thereupon the seneschal obeyed, and went with 
those men he could find, and, most joyful of all, went 
with him Harold Wolfang, who hated Jarl and was 
eager to see him whipped. 

Now Droma had run all the way to Elsper’s cottage, 
and Olin’s wife had given her sweet milk and cakes ; 
and then, when she had rested, she sat in the forest 
talking with Jarl, and she said — 

“ Jarl, are you not glad to see me to-day, for you 
look sad and cross ; ” and Jarl sighed and answered — 
“ Oh, Droma of the Golden Hair, how can I help 
being sad ? Already do the others sneer at me and 
remind me that I am a born-thrall, and must wear the 
iron collar. Oh ! I would that I could do some grand 
deed and show people that a thrall may be as good as a 
freeman,” and Droma answered — 

“ Patience, Jarl, for the time will come.” 

“ Yet why should they laugh and sneer at me ? ” 
he went on. “ Am I not as strong as any of them ? 
There is no youth in your father’s land can beat me 
or throw me fairly. Oh ! that I might be great ! ” 

“ But,” said Droma gravely, “ why do you want to 
be great, Jarl ? ” 

Then Jarl took her hand and answered her — 

“ Oh, Droma of the Golden Hair, I want to be great 
so that presently when you and I are older I may 
come and ask the Jarl to giye you to me for my wife. 
But I shall be a thrall with an iron collar, and another 
will come and win you, and then I shall want to die.” 


45 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

Just then a bird sang in the branches overhead, and 
J arl knew the words of the birds’ songs, though others 
did not understand them ; and the bird sang — 

“ Patience, patience, Jarl ; what is worth winning 
is worth waiting for and worth working for. Patience, 
patience, Jarl.” 

So Jarl was comforted by the bird’s song, and he 
was comforted by Droma’s words ; for she answered 
him, speaking gravely, as one far older might speak, 
and she said — 

“ Dear Jarl, noble name depends on noble deeds. 
Noble birth is nothing, noble life is everything. We 
must be patient, Jarl,” which is just what the bird 
had been singing, though Droma did not know that. 

Now just at this minute there came cries and shouts, 
and the seneschal and his men came up and seized 
Jarl, while Harold Wolfang laughed in delight, that 
the thrall’s son must now be whipped in the sight 
of Droma. 

“ ’Tis our lady’s orders,” said he, when Elsper came 
running out in terror and grief, thinking that Jarl 
must surely have been in mischief. “ My command 
was that if I found Jarl speaking with the Lady Droma 
I was to whip him.” 

“ But Jarl has surely done no wrong,” cried Droma. 
“ I ran away because I was wearied of the castle, and 
my father the Jarl does not forbid it, nor did my lady 
mother tell me to tarry there. Therefore, if any are 
to be beaten, it should be I, not Jarl.” 

“ Beat the Lady Droma,” cried the seneschal, 
aghast at the idea. “ Why the Earl would slay me 
did I do so. Nay, Jarl must take the beating like a 
man. ’Tis the easiest way,” and to this Jarl said — 


46 


THE SAGA OF 


“ And so I will. Gladly will I be beaten, since the 
Lady Droma has come to speak with me.” 

Just then who should come from the forest but 
Olin, his great boar spear in his hand ; and when he 
heard he frowned, but he said — 

“ Surely Jarl must be beaten if the Lady Gunhilda 
so says.” Yet he bit his lips and his brow was dark as 
he saw the seneschal strip off Jarl’s coat and leave his 
brown skin all bare, for the rods to scar his shoulders. 

But never a blow was to fall on Jarl’s back that day. 
Just as they were seizing him there came a most 
dreadful roar, and they caught sight of a monstrous 
creature springing through the forest towards them. 
One like a wolf, yet running on its hind legs like a man ! 

“ ’Tis the werewolf ! ” shrieked young Harold Wol- 
fang in terror, and he ran screaming away, while after 
him, seneschal, men and boys pelted, forgetting all about 
beating J arl or protecting Droma from this most terrible 
monster. And it was the werewolf, true enough. 
With another roar it had sprung into the clearing 
where they had been, and was facing Droma. Even 
Olin, brave as he was, had drawn back for the moment, 
so startled that his spear had fallen from his grasp ; 
and if he had been the only one to aid Droma, surely 
the Jarl’s daughter had been rent in pieces. 

But Jarl was between the hideous werewolf and 
little Droma, and he only thought of her peril and not 
of his own fear. 

He saw the open jaws, all flecked with foam, the 
fiery eyes and the lolling tongue. He saw the great 
thing, taller than a man, stretch out its wicked claws 
to seize her ; and then he snatched up his father’s 
heavy spear, and with one long wild shout he rushed 


JARL THE NEATHERD 47 

at the werewolf, who turned round as if surprised that 
this boy should dare to encounter him. 

But he was more surprised the next moment, for 
that sharp boar spear caught him a terrible blow and 
fairly ran right through him, till the head stood out on 
the other side of his body ; and with a last dreadful roar 
the werewolf flung up his arms and fell back dead. 
Jarl had killed the foe, and saved Droma again. 



Now it happened at this time Jarl Hilderbrand was 
riding with his men through the forest, back to the 
castle, when he heard the shouts and screams, and 
towards him rushed the seneschal and Harold Wolfang, 
crying that the werewolf was after them. Indeed, so 
great was the terror of Harold that when Hilderbrand 
bent from his saddle and gripped his arm, he thought 


48 THE SAGA OF 

it was the werewolf that had seized him, and he uttered 
a shriek of fear. 

“Truly, thou art a brave man, Harold Wolfang,” 
said the Jarl laughing. “ What has frightened thee, 
a hare or a shadow ? ” 

“ ’Tis the werewolf,” cried Harold. “ He is back 
in yonder clearing.” And then the seneschal added — 

“ Woe ! woe ! The beautiful Droma ! Woe for 
Droma of the Golden Hair.” 

“What!” shouted Hilderbrand, and his cheek went 
white. “ Droma, sayest thou ? and you running and 
screaming like ni things ! ” and with this he spurred 
his horse, his warriors following, and as he galloped 
he dragged Harold Wolfang back with him ; and there 
in the clearing, he found Jarl holding the trembling 
Droma in his arms, while at his feet, dead, lay the were- 
wolf, and Olin and Elsper were hurrying with trembling 
limbs to assure themselves that the Jarl’s daughter 
was not hurt. 

Then first cried the Jarl in loud tones — 

“Look you, Jarl, son of Olin my born-thrall, for 
this you are worthy of death,” for as he rode up he 
had seen Jarl kiss Droma the Golden Haired. 

But Jarl looked round at him, and though Olin 
trembled Jarl did not. He had done man’s work and 
he felt a man now and he said aloud — 

“ Jarl Hilderbrand, he who does the deed is worthy 
of the reward. Slay me if thou wilt ; but tell me 
which of all thy people had dared to slay yon werewolf 
as I have done.” 

Then did Hilderbrand light from his horse and look 
at the dead werewolf, and lo ! ’twas a head taller than 
himself, and he said slowly — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 49 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, didst thou slay this fell creature 
by thyself ? ” 

“ By myself, with my father’s spear,” answered Jarl . 
and Olin said — 

“ Hilderbrand, lord and jarl, I have counted myself 
a brave man, yet even I trembled and stood power- 
less before this thing’s attack, and had it not been for 
this boy, Droma of the Golden Hair had been torn 
asunder by now ; for of all those who came to beat my 
son not one remained to meet the wolf.” 

“ Beat thy son,” cried Hilderbrand, noticing that 
Jarl’s jacket had been stripped off, and that the 
whipping rods lay scattered on the turf. • “For what 
offence was Jarl to be whipped ? ” 

Then did the seneschal explain, and say that Jarl 
had submitted himself dutifully ; but Hilderbrand 
pulled at his beard, for he was in doubt. He liked not 
that again Jarl should have saved Droma, and he liked 
not that she should have thus stolen to meet him, yet 
he had done a brave deed, and none other of his house- 
hold had dared so to do. Hilderbrand knew not how 
to act, yet he turned to Jarl and he spake — 

“ Justice is justice, Jarl son of Olin my thrall, and 
justice shall be thine. Nothing hast thou done worthy 
of the whipping, so this shall not be. For the other, 
he who does the deed merits the reward. Twice has 
it been that thou hast saved Droma’s life, therefore 
take thy reward, for this is thine. Yet hearken, thou 
art a man and hast done man’s work ; ’tis no more 
fitting thou shouldst tarry with thy father. I pro- 
mised him that thou shouldst be my neatherd, and 
this is my word. To-morrow thou shalt to thine own 
work and tend the cattle, and be responsible for their 


50 


THE SAGA OF 


loss ; and thou shalt have my leave to carry man’s 
tools, sword and spear and shield, and if thou art 
worthy when war-time comes thou shalt follow, and 
perchance thou mayst earn thy freedom and gain 
renown. To-day thy reward — a kiss from the Lady 
Droma of the Golden Hair for each brave deed thou 
hast done, and with each kiss a golden bracelet from 
me, thy Jarl. To-morrow the task, the trust, and 
the watch ; and the future lies before thee, for thine 
own shaping.” 

Now little Droma blushed as she heard her father’s 
words, for ’twas one thing to kiss Jarl when none but 
the birds and laughing squirrels were there to tell 
secrets, but ’twas another to kiss him as he stood there 
with all these her father’s men about her — yet they 
were smiling; most of them, for they thought the 
child love was a pretty joke — but she also saw the 
sneering face of Harold Wolfang, and for a moment 
her rosy cheeks burnt with shame. But then she 
raised her head and walked up to Jarl, who had risked 
his life for her and done more than her father’s men 
would have dared, and she did not shudder as she 
stepped across the body of the great werewolf, and 
held her face up for him to kiss her ; and she said aloud, 
so that all might hear — 

“ Kiss me, Jarl. It does not honour you, but it 
honours mCy for there is not a braver in all the land of 
Norroway.” 

Then the great grim warriors drew their swords and 
shouted in applause, for the speech pleased them, and 
they said that little Droma of the Golden Hair was a 
daughter worthy of their lord Hilderbrand ; and as 
each soldier passed the spot where Jarl stood they threw 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


51 


him rings of gold, and bracelets and earrings, all the 
spoil they had taken from the vanquished Vikings. 
And there, with old stern Hilderbrand looking on, Jarl 
took Droma in his arms and kissed her ; and she placed 
her fair hands on his brown shoulders and kissed him ; 
and then he bent low to her, and her father lifted her 
on to his own great warhorse before him, and he said — 
“ He who did the deed has had the reward, but 
he who will win the prize must work for it, young Jarl. 
To-day the reward, to-morrow the work,” and then 
he rode away ; yet as he rode he looked at Droma and 
stroked his beard and frowned. The Red Olaf had 
said that when she was grown Droma should wed one 
of his own sons, yet Jarl Hilderbrand knew, deep down 
in his heart, that sooner or later Droma of the Golden 
Hair would wed none other than the son of the thrall 
Olin, the lad whom he had just made his neatherd. 


52 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER IV 

THE IRON COLLAR 

S O that was how it fell out that Jarl, the son of 
Olin, no longer played in the forest and aided 
his father tend the swine ; but instead, carried man’s 
weapons though he was but young in years, and was 
put to care for the great droves of oxen that ranged 
in the pastures belonging to Jarl Hilderbrand. 

Now Hilderbrand had been moved to set Jarl thus 
early to tend the oxen because he thought that it 
would prevent Droma of the Golden Hair from seeing 
him so much. 

For he was shamed to say that the children should 
not meet ; yet he was troubled for the matter, because 
he remembered what the trolls had said concerning his 
thrall’s son, and he feared that when Droma grew older 
she would fall in love with the neatherd. 

So Jarl was sent up into the hills where, amidst the 
pastures, the cattle grazed ; and here he had to sit, 
watching to see that none of them strayed, or were 
stolen by rascals, for there were thieves in the moun- 
tains who feared nothing but a strong arm and a sharp 
spear or sword. 

And in one way Jarl was happy enough. He would 
sit tending his charges and growing hardy and strong, 
drinking in the fresh mountain air ; and his limbs grew 


JARL THE NEATHERD 53 

supple and sturdy climbing from crag to crag and 
leaping from rock to rock. 

And it was strange how the cattle knew him and he 
knew them. None of his charges ever strayed, and 
when he sat playing on his pipe, which he had 
fashioned from the water-reeds, be the oxen ever so 
far away they would come back and stand, with their 
great mild eyes fixed upon him, listening to his music. 
And when he played like that, the pipes always sang 
one song, and Jarl knew and understood every word 
they were saying, for this is the song the pipes sang — 

Fairest of maidens of all Olaf’s kingdom 
Fairest of all is the Golden-haired Droma, 

Sweeter than all is Jarl Hilderbrand's daughter, 

None are like to her, not in all Norway. 

White is her skin like the snow on the mountain. 

Blue are her eyes as the sky in the summer, 

Sweet is her voice as the song of the skylark, 

True is her heart as the sword of her father, 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norway, 

Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

That was the song which the pipes sang to Jarl as he 
sat on the mountain slopes ; and perhaps the wind 
carried the words and whispered them to Droma of 
the Golden Hair, for as she sat in her room with her 
maidens and her nurses, she heard the wind whisper — 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norway, 

Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

And instead of being sorrowful and angry Droma 
smiled and said nothing ; only in her heart was the echo 
of the song, and it made all her life full of music. 

Now there were those who hated Jarl because he 
had slain the werewolf when they had proved that they 


54 


THE SAGA OF 


were nithings and had run away ; and they wished 
that they could do something to bring him into the 
Jarl’s anger, but they knew not how to do it. 

Twice did they send and try and drive away his 
oxen when he was not watching, but he had only to 
get out his pipe and begin to play, and back they all 
came again as fast as fast could be. 

Then did Harold Wolfang go to his father, the 
Warlock, Sweth the Red, and tell him of his tale ; 
and Sweth listened and stroked his beard, and said 
he would do that which should bring Jarl into dis- 
favour with Hilderbrand, and get the iron collar put 
upon his neck. 

So in the evening Red Sweth sent one of the wicked 
trolls to hide on the mountain side and sing as though 
the brooklet were singing to Jarl, and the troll sang — 

Droma of the Golden Hair, 

Weeps her for her faithless lover* 

Seven times within the forest, 

Hath she strayed by Olin’s cottage. 

She hath sought for Jarl in sadness. 

Sought for him in tears and sorrow. 

Thus she sighed “ If Jarl did love me. 

Surely he would come to greet me ; 

Surely he would haste to meet me, 

Jarl the Neatherd does not love me.” 

Then Jarl rose and cried to his oxen and said, 
“ Oh, oxen, oxen, go not straying, for I must to my 
love who seeks me in the forest.” 

But the oxen answered — 

“ Go not, go not, O son of Olin. ’Tis of evil comes 
the message. ’Tis of Sweth the Warlock’s sending. 
Go not down, O Jarl the Neatherd.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


55 


But though the oxen had warned him, Jarl had to 
go ; for the love of Droma was in his heart and the 
song of the troll was in his ears, and his feet would 
take him whether he would or not. 

Then the troll went and told Red Sweth that Jarl 
had left his charges ; and Red Sweth sent him to 
sing like the lark outside Droma’s chamber, and this 
is what he sang to Hilderbrand’s daughter — 

Jarl the Neatherd weeps in anguish, 

Olin’s son is sad and dreary, 

Looks and longs for the Jarl’s daughter. 

Looks for golden-headed Droma. 

Twice for her his life he offered 
Now she leaves him sad and lonely, 

“Fickle is the heart of maiden.’* 

So thinks Jarl of cruel Droma. 

Then Droma rose up and cried — 

“ Oh, my maidens, I am weary of playing. I will 
go and see Olin and Elsper in their cottage, and ask 
them tidings of their son.” 

But from the window the wind said as it blew by — 

Go not forth from out the castle. 

’Tis Red Sweth that sends the message. 

He would harm the son of Olin ; 

Cause thee sorrow, lovely Droma. 

But Droma of the Golden Hair would not listen to 
the wind, for the love of Jarl was in her heart and the 
song of the troll was in her ears, and her feet took her 
whether she would or not. 

So out into the forest she ran, and there she met 
Jarl ; and she wound her arms round his neck and 
kissed him, and he kissed her, and they sat talking side 


THE SAGA OF 


56 

by side, while the squirrels chattered and scolded and 
bade them go back. Only, alas ! now that their hearts 
were full of love and their ears full of the troll music, 
they could not hear the voices of the forest that warned 
them of their trouble. 

Now while they tarried in the forest, behold Jarl 
Hilderbrand sat in his great hall ; and presently he 
noticed that Droma of the Golden Hair was not seated 
by the side of Gunhilda his wife, so he said — 

“ Sweet love, my lady, where is our daughter, Droma 
of the Golden Hair, and what makes her tarry ? ” 

“ Nay, I know not, husband,” answered Gunhilda, 
“ but I will send and ask the maidens.” 

So she sent a message to Droma’s maidens, and they 
answered that Droma had gone to see Elsper and Olin 
in their cottage. 

Now at this Gunhilda frowned, but Hilderbrand 
laughed, and said — 

“ There is no harm in that, sweet love, my lady. 
The child will be back soon.” 

Then up and spake Harold Wolfang, as his father 
the Red Warlock had instructed him, and he said — 

“ Not to talk with Olin and Elsper has Droma of 
the Golden Hair gone, 0 Jarl. She tarries in the 
glades with thy neatherd, and whispers her love to 
him.” 

Then did the eyes of Jarl Hilderbrand grow bright 
with anger ; and he bent his brows upon Harold 
Wolfang, and he spoke sternly and answered — 

“ How thou dost know that, Harold, son of the 
Warlock, I know not, unless it is through thy father’s 
magic ; but this I say, and this is my word to you — 
If what thou hast said is false, then I will smite thy 


57 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

head from thy body with my war-axe ; and if what 
thou sayest is true, then will I place the iron collar 
on Jarl the son of Olin, and he shall be scourged.” 

“I am well content with thy words, Jarl Hilder- 
brand,” laughed young Wolfang. “ Thy serf will 
gain a collar, but I shall not lose my head.” 

“We shall see,” answered Hilderbrand; and he 
called for his horse, and, followed by all his people, 
he rode away into the forest glades ; and there, sure 
enough, seated side by side, forgetting all else, sat 
Droma and Jarl the Neatherd, telling each other of 
their love. 

Then did Hilderbrand grow very wroth ; and he 
half drew his great sword as if to slay Jarl, and he 
said — 

“ Is this the way that thou mindest my cattle, son 
of Olin ? ” 

But Jarl answered quietly — 

“ O, Jarl Hilderbrand, there be some things which 
may not be bound or fettered, which calls our feet 
whether the will says yes or no. My heart heard 
Droma call and I came, and that is the matter.” 

“ There be some things which must be bound in 
fetters,” answered Hilderbrand. “ For thy man’s 
work I did not put the collar of the thrall on thy neck, 
yet thou hast forgotten ; and being my born-thrall, 
thou hast lifted thine eyes to Droma the Golden 
Haired. Now because you are but children, there- 
fore I will spare you the scourging which I said should 
be yours ; but that you may remember that you are 
my born-thrall, therefore shall the iron collar be put 
round thy neck.” 

Now at this Droma wept sore, but she dared not 


THE SAGA OF 


58 

speak against her father’s words ; for she saw the 
Jarl Hilderbrand was very wroth with her. 

Jarl also, though he felt it dreadful that Droma 
should see them fix the thrall’s collar upon his neck, yet 
he said nothing ; only in his heart all the time the 
music was saying — 

Fairest of all the daughters of Norway 
Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

So Jarl Hinderbrand gave commandment, and his 
armourer brought the iron collar and fixed it with 
strong rivets on poor Jarl’s neck ; and on the collar 
was written — 

This is Jarl, son of Olin, 

Born-thrall of Jarl Hilderband. 

When the fast rivet was fixed, Jarl stood upright 
looking at Hilderbrand ; and the old Jarl stroked his 
beard and regarded him thoughtfully ; for he saw 
the fire in the lad’s eyes, and knew that he had the 
hero’s heart, and would some day do great deeds ; so 
he said — 

“ Fair deed for fair deed, Jarl son of Olin. I have 
fixed an iron collar on thy neck for thy punishment. 
But for that, I will take the collar from the neck of 
Olin thy father, and give him a piece of land that he 
may be free man. But thou shalt still be born-thrall 
and neatherd.” 

So Jarl Hilderbrand called his armourer and bade 
him take the collar from Olin’s neck, so that he and 
Elsper should be thralls no longer ; and then he said 
to Jarl — 

“ Now go back to thy herd, and see that no harm 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


59 


comes to them ; and remember that if thou dost 
break trust again, then the collar shall be placed on 
Olin’s neck once more, and his cabin shall be burnt 
down.” 

Then spake Jarl, and he said — 

“ O, Hilderbrand, I am in thy hand, for I am thy 
born-thrall ; but this I say — No promise do I give 
thee that I will not see Droma of the Golden Hair, so 
if thou art angry ’twere best to slay me now. For 
the heart calls and the ears listen and the feet obey, 
and who shall say nay to them ? ” 

“ Go back to thy herd, thrall ! ” cried Wolfang, who 
was not happy that Olin had been set free, “ talk not 
to thy Jarl like that.” But Jarl looked at Wolfang 
and he said quietly — 

“ Harold Wolfang, son of the Red Warlock — nithing 
that thou art — if thou dost go to my father’s cottage, 
thou wilt see the skin of the werewolf, but beware 
that it does not frighten thee too much.” And at this 
old Hilderbrand laughed, for he knew that Wolfang 
was indeed a nithing. 

“ Get thee to thy work, Jarl,” he said. “ Remember 
when duty is done well the road is made clear. Now 
go, and you, daughter, come with me.” 

But Droma, before she went, walked up to Jarl, 
and before all there, without even asking Hilderbrand’s 
consent, she kissed him and said — 

“ Farewell, Jarl, my love. It is my fault that you 
have been blamed, but I will be true to you, Jarl, let 
what will happen.” 

Then Jarl Hilderbrand said fierce words and dragged 
his daughter up on to the saddle before him, and 
galloped home ; while Jarl, wearing the iron collar. 


6o 


THE SAGA OF 


turned and went back to the mountain pastures ; 
and while he felt glad that Droma had kissed him and 
called him love ; yet he felt very sad, for the iron 
collar kept reminding him that he was but a thrall ; 
and how could he ever hope to win the mighty Jarl 
Hilderbrand’s consent to marry Droma the Golden 
Haired ? 

And that is how Jarl the son of Olin came to have 
the iron thrall-collar fixed upon his neck. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


6i 


CHAPTER V 

HOW CRAWILLA TEMPTED JARL 
HEN Jarl, with the iron thrall-collar round his 



1 neck, was sent back to the mountain pastures 
to tend the herds of oxen, and he saw no more of 
Droma of the Golden Hair for many many long dreary 


days. 


Now Olin was a free man, he and Elsper ofttimes 
came to the mountains where Jarl lived, and spent 
the time with him ; but Jarl Hilderbrand had said that 
the neatherd should not go from his fields down to 
the cabin in the forest, for he feared that if he did 
he might perchance meet with beautiful Droma, arid 
then people would cry shame, and he would be forced 
to punish Jarl, or perhaps even to slay him ; and this 
Hilderbrand would have been loth to do, for had not 
the neatherd saved Droma’s life, when men fled like 
nithings ? 

Now Olin made little trouble about his son being 
in the moimtains ; and he did not understand why 
Jarl should look moody. 

“ Thou hast been favoured of Hilderbrand, my son,” 
he said. “Thou hast been honoured by Droma of 
the Golden Hair in a way that many a freeman’s son 
may not hope to be ; and now, though thou art but 
a boy, thou hast been given man’s tools to bear ; 


62 


THE SAGA OF 


thou hast been set as one of the chief neatherds, and 
for thy deeds thou hast had many golden bracelets 
given thee, and thy father and mother are made free. 
Why then look moody ? ” 

“I know not,” answered Jarl; but that was not 
true. He knew it was because he loved Droma, and 
felt that he might never hope to win her. Also he 
knew that had he told Olin his father of this, Olin 
would either have laughed or chided him ; for how 
should a neatherd think of wedding a Jarl’s daughter ? 
But though Olin did not imderstand, Elsper did. She 
knew what was the cause of her boy’s sorrow ; and 
though she said little, she would sit and hold his 
hand, or press a kiss on his health-tinted cheek, and 
she would remember all that the fairies had said, 
and bid him be patient and wait till the right time 
should come. 

Often Jarl was tempted to go down to the forest 
and try and see Droma as she wandered amidst the 
groves ; but he remembered Hilderbrand’s word, 
and knew that did he do this, the Jarl would put the 
iron collar on Olin again, and bum down the cabin. 

Now at first he tried to be brave and patient, but it 
was very hard work ; for often, when the moon was 
clouded and the good trolls had gone back to the 
caves, Crawilla and the evil trolls would come stealing 
across the pastures, like shadows, and though he did 
not see them, they would whisper in his ear that 
Droma was being loved by others ; — that Harold 
Wolfang would make her his bride, or that she was 
weeping for her faithless Jarl, who was such a nithing 
that he would not risk Hilderbrand’s anger by coming 
to see her. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 63 

Jarl did not know who whispered these thoughts, 
but they were very hard to bear. At first, when he 
played on his pipe, the mountain voices answered in 
happy songs, and the great droves of cattle came 
and listened, and he found that he could drive the 
evil voices away from his heart ; but, alas ! presently 
he ceased to play, and then the mountain voices did 
not sing to him, and the cattle, instead of being 
obedient, became wild and troublesome, and often 
strayed, giving him much trouble and work, so that 
he beat them and spake hard words at them as he had 
never done before. 

And then he began to grow careless and sullen, 
and he had hard words for men as well as for cattle, 
so that Olin grew angry, and Elsper wept for her boy 
who was so changed. 

Jarl Hilderbrand heard of this, and though it made 
his heart sad in one way, he was glad in another ; for 
he took care that they should speak in the castle, and 
that Droma should hear how wild and careless Jarl 
was growing, so that she might be ashamed of him, 
and look coldly on him, should they meet. And 
Droma heard, and wept when none saw her ; for 
perhaps she knew best of all why Jarl was growing 
so idle and cross. 

And the days stole to join the hours, and the weeks 
stole away to join the days, and these became years ; 
and now Jarl was a great strong man with muscles 
and thews like iron ; and yet still he kept in the 
mountains and came down to see no men, save when 
he had to send the oxen to the sheds in the winter 
days ; and then he always came back to the hills 
with their frost and snow, and sat in his hut, so 


THE SAGA OF 


64 

sullen and fierce that even the wolves would not go 
near the spot ; and the most hungry bears would shake 
their heads and say : “No, no, no. Jarl the Neatherd 
is fiercer than we are. If we went there he would slay 
us. No, no, no.” 

Three times did the war-time come in the land, 
and three times did Jarl Hilderbrand lead his men 
against the foe, in the ranks of Red Olaf the King ; 
but never did he send for the neatherd to take man’s 
weapons and join in the war-game, for he thought 
that, did he do so, Jarl would do some great deed, 
and then Droma of the Golden Hair would remember 
her love, which now seemed asleep. 

And Jarl, when he knew this, grew harder and 
harder and ground his teeth. He looked as wild 
as the wildest of his cattle, wild as the wolves them- 
selves, and his strength was like to that of the were- 
wolf. His hair was long and unbound, and on his 
face he had a rough beard growing, and though Elsper 
ever brought him nice clothes, he preferred to dress 
in the skins of the wild beasts which he had slain ; 
and people began to shake their heads and say that 
they were right after all ; and that Jarl the son of 
Olin must have been a changeling all the time, and 
now was beginning to show it. 

Now it happened that one stormy night, while Jarl 
sat in his hut, gazing with glowing eyes into the 
fire, that the witch Crawilla came flying on the storm- 
wind and scattering dark clouds behind her ; and 
thrice she flew round the hut where Jarl sat, and then 
she smote the door so hard that it flew open, and the 
fire was scattered this way and that. 

Jarl thought it was but the wind, and he jumped 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


65 


up angrily to make the door fast again ; but when 
he had done so and turned back to the fire, there he 
saw the witch standing, looking at him with a strange 
mocking smile on her face, and he cried — 

“ Who are you — witch, or storm-sister, or what evil 
thing ? Whatever you are, you are no worse than 
the thoughts that are with me, so I bid you welcome.” 

“ Thank you Jarl, son of Olin,” answered Crawilla, 
seating herself and holding her thin fingers above the 
flames. 



“‘THANK YOU JARL,’ .... ANSWERED CRAWILLA.’* 


“ I am witch and storm-sister, and evil thing — as 
thou sayest ; and because thy thoughts are as mine I 
have power to come to thee ; but lam thy friend, Jarl.” 

“ I have no friends,” answered Jarl sullenly. 

“ Nay, thou art wrong. Thou hast me, and I know 
of all thy trouble, and am come to help thee.” 

“How?” cried Jarl eagerly; but for a little 

B 


66 


THE SAGA OF 


Crawilla made no reply, only sitting resting her chin 
on her scraggy hands, and looking at him ; just as 
a cruel old cat will look at a little mouse that it means 
to catch. Then suddenly she said — 

“Jarl, Jarl, thou dost love Droma of the Golden 
Hair.’’ 

“All men know that,” answered Jarl angrily. 

“ And thou canst not hope to win her ! Thou art 
a poor thrall and she a lady fair, with young nobles 
to woo her.” 

“ If thou dost talk like that, witch, I will pierce 
thee with my spear,” shouted Jarl in dreadful anger; 
but Crawilla only laughed shrilly. 

“ Thou wilt slay the old witch for telling the truth 
which thy heart ought to hear, because thou art a 
nithing, and dare not know what is the truth I ” 

“ I am no nithing,” answered Jarl. 

“ Thou art a nithing. If thou wast not, thou 
wouldst take thy man’s tools and go down and seize 
the maiden and bear her away.” 

“ That I may not do,” answered Jarl. “ For if I 
did, her father would make Olin and my mother 
thralls again, and burn down their home.” 

“ And what matter that,” said the witch, “ if 
you had your heart’s desire ? Jarl, a man must think 
of himself first, or none others will think of him ; 
besides, thou couldst slay the old Jarl, and be done 
with him.” 

“ I will not have the blood of my lady’s father on 
my hands,” said Jarl; and the witch laughed again 

“ Thou art too particular, Jarl,” she said. “ Think 
you that Golden Haired Droma would love you the 
less for that ? ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 67 

“ All men would join to hunt me down and slay 
me. 

“ Then,” said the witch, “ I will give you a charmed 
drink, and the spirit of the berserker shall come to 
you, and you shall live in the mountain cave, and all 
men will fear you.” 

Now I must explain to you, children, that this 
was a very dreadful thing to say ; for a berserker 
was a dreadful madman, and they called them ber- 
serkers because, instead of dressing in armour like 
warriors did, they only put on a coarse sort of frock 
and then dared any men to try and kill them. Every 
body hated and feared the berserkers, who lived like 
the bears in the dens and caves of the mountains, 
where the warriors could not get at them. So when 
Jarl heard the witch say this, he started up in his 
fury, and cried : “ Base witch, dost thou think that I 
would have the Golden Haired Droma become the 
wife of a wild berserker, who is little better than a 
brute ? ” and at this the witch laughed again, though the 
laugh sounded more angry, as she found how hard it 
was to tempt Jarl ; but she made answer — 

“ Thou art too particular, Jarl. What matter 
what Droma think, so long as she is thy lady, and 
none other can take her from thee ? But if thou dost 
dread this, then rend the thrall-collar from thy neck, 
and throw off thy service to Hilderbrand, and flee 
to the sea where thou canst go a-viking with others 
as bold and strong as thyself, who will welcome thee 
as their leader. Then canst thou carry fire and sword 
along the land, and when thou wilt, thou canst blow 
the war horn against Jarl Hilderbrand and meet him 
as man to man. Thou canst burn down the castle. 


68 


THE SAGA OF 


and carry the beautiful Droma off, as many a hero 
has carried off his lady love.” 

Now this sounded more to Jarl’s mind ; for, as I 
have told you, when he was but a boy he used to 
think of this ; and indeed there were plenty of Jarls 
who had carried off their sweethearts in this way, 
without even waiting to say “Will you like to come 
with me?” 

His fingers went up to the iron thrall-collar as if 
he would rend it asunder ; but then, in the midst of 
the fire he seemed to see the face of Droma of the 
Golden Hair, and she looked sadly at him and shook 
her head, and her lips moved ; and it was as if she was 
begging Jarl not to do this thing ; so he let his hand 
fall, and sat down again, and he said — 

“ I will not do this thing yet, witch. It needs 
thinking over before we jump down into a pit where 
we cannot jump up again.” 

Then Crawilla jumped up in a rage, and cried — 

“ Oh, thou nithing I thou ni thing ! thou ni thing ! ” 
and she rushed out of the hut, jumped on the storm- 
wind and swept away over the sea, leaving Jarl seated 
alone. 

Then when she had gone, he rose and bolted the 
door once more ; and he got out his supper of black 
bread and cheese ; and then, there on the table, he 
saw a silver flask which seemed full of rich wine. 

It did not belong to Jarl, and so he had no right to 
touch it ; but now he had grown so careless and wild 
that he never troubled whose it was, but just tilted 
it to his lips, and drained it dry. 

Alas ! Alas ! He did not know that it had been 
left there by the witch on purpose to tempt him ; that it 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


69 

was a horrid charm which she had made from poison 
— herbs gathered when the moon was dark, and the 
night dews thick, and that it was called Discontent. 

Ugh ! how bitter it was. It seemed to draw all 
his mouth up ; and Jarl, with his head swimming, 
fell senseless to the ground. 

When he awoke it was morning ; but he could still 
taste that bitter wine. It seemed to be in his very 
bones. Everything he ate or drank tasted of it, and 
the sky was dark and the sun did not shine properly, 
and everything went wrong. 

And from that day he grew worse and worse ; and 
often the witch came and tried to make him agree 
to turn berserker ; only somehow the face of Droma 
would come before his eyes, and make him say nay 
to the temptress. But for all that, he got more 
and more idle, and often the herds went astray ; and 
some fell over the precipices and were lost, and some 
were slain by bears and wolves, and some the robbers 
stole ; so that Jarl Hilderbrand grew wroth, and said 
that of all his neatherds, Jarl the son of Olin was the 
worst ; only deep in his heart, a voice answered that 
it was his own shame, for he had dealt hardly with 
the young man. 

But one day they came and told him that there 
were many of the oxen gone ; and that Jarl had sat 
in his cabin all the day, sleeping when he should 
have been on the watch ; and at this Jarl Hilderbrand 
smote his fist on the table, and said that Jarl the 
son of Olin was a lazy scamp and that he should be 
whipped before all men, to let them learn how a 
thrall should think of his master’s business. 

Alas ! poor Droma ; when she heard this, she wept and 


70 


THE SAGA OF 


begged her father to pardon Jarl ; but Hilderbrand 
was more and more angry at this, and said that ’twas 
shame that his daughter, the Lady Droma, should 
weep for a rascal thrall ; and so also said Gunhilda 
the Fair. 

So Jarl was brought down to the great courtyard, 
and behold when he was there, who should come to 
Jarl Hilderbrand’s but Red Olaf the King ; and with 
him was his son, the prince, whom men called the 
White Olaf. 

The Red Olaf was a fierce-looking warrior ; proud, 
and haughty, and stem ; but the White Olaf, though 
he was amongst the bravest of his father’s Jarls, was 
kindly and gentle, and ever just and merciful. 

So when they were come, Hilderbrand told them 
that a thrall was to be whipped, and Red Olaf, who 
had caught a glimpse of Jarl’s strong form, laughed, 
and cried — 

“ Now, by Odin the war god, I will see that whip- 
ping ; ’tis like to be sport, for I should say that such 
a fellow will not take it calmly.” 

At this Hilderbrand also laughed, and he thought — 
“ Now, if I let the Golden Haired Droma see this 
rough Jarl struggling with my guards while he takes 
his whipping, she will think it shame, and will turn 
to the young prince, the White Olaf, who will be by 
her side, and will listen to his wooing.” For you must 
know that the Red Olaf had brought the prince to 
woo the daughter of mighty Jarl Hilderbrand. 

So into the castle yard aU the freemen and soldiers 
came; and into the yard did they lead Jarl, bound 
tightly. 

Now, Jarl wished that he had the berserker spirit. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 71 

that he might tear and rend ; but this was not his. 
But still he was very strong, and he thought that 
when the time came he would burst his bonds and turn 
upon those who smote him, and then flee to the Vikings ; 
and his heart was full hot when he saw the 
Red Olaf, and heard him laugh again and say that 
this was a sturdy knave to be beaten like a dog. 

But the worst was to come, for Hilderbrand had 
commanded, and lo ! the White Olaf came out, leading 
the beautiful Golden Haired Droma ; and oh ! how 
ashamed Jarl felt, as if his shame would kill him, and 
all thought of breaking loose was cast aside. 

He did but think that Droma saw his shame, and 
would never think kindly of him again now, but 
would for ever despise him, and that thought took 
all else away. He had not seen her for nigh three 
years, and now she was the most beautiful maiden 
that the sun had ever shone upon, and all the weary 
soul of Jarl seemed to hang upon her look. 

Did she scorn him ? Nay, there was a look of 
pity in her face ; yet there was also a look of reproach. 

Jarl could read her thoughts, though others might 
not, and he knew what she was saying — 

“ Jarl, Jarl,” her heart said to his. “ Oh, Jarl, my 
love ! You have been unkind to bring me this shame. 
You are no longer to be whipped for a fault of mine, for 
this you deserve, and you have shamed me.” 

From Droma he looked at the face of the Prince 
Olaf, and he saw there a look almost as sad as Droma’s, 
for to the White Olaf it seemed shame that one so 
strong and so beautiful in his face, spite his rough 
wild looks, should be thus beaten before all. 

Not a word did Droma speak, but she looked 


72 


THE SAGA OF 


steadily at Jarl. He had thought she would hide 
her face and shudder, but she looked without flinch- 
ing, while they stripped off his coat, and he knew her 
heart said — 

“ Jarl, Jarl, to have shamed me thus ; to be beaten, 
bound like this, before all men ! ” 

Then suddenly a great strength came to Jarl, and 
with one wrench he shook all the bonds from him, 
and sent the men who held him reeling back. 

“ Now will he make sport,” shouted Red Olaf ; 
but Jarl did not try to. He took two strides forward 
till he stood before Hilderbrand, and he cried — 

“ Hear me, Jarl. I am to be beaten for my fault. 
Good, for the fault is mine, and the stripes are de- 
served. But I will not be bound like a dog. Let the 
men strike, and I will neither flinch nor cry, be the 
stripes as they may. But if they bind me, then will 
I resist, and some will suffer.” 

“ Have him bound,” shouted the Red Olaf ; but 
old Hilderbrand raised his hand. 

“Nay, nay, King Olaf. Jarl shall be beaten as he 
says, and I will see if he can keep his word.” 

“ So be it, Hilderbrand,” answered Jarl, and he stood 
with folded arms while he let the hard blows fall on 
his back. 

But never once did he cry ; he kept his eyes fixed 
upon the face of Droma of the Golden Hair, for he 
thought this would be the last time he might see her. 
And she kept her eyes fixed upon his, though her 
face was white to her very lips, and her little hands 
were tightly clenched, as if she felt the pain ; and so 
did the punishment be given and taken. 

Only, when it was over, did Jarl turn towards the 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


73 


place where Hilderbrand stood ; and he raised his 
fingers and tore the thrall-collar from his neck with 
one mighty effort, though for the doing of this he 
might be slain. And he cast it at Ililderbrand’s feet 
and said — 

“Jarl Hilderbrand, for my fault have I suffered 
as I deserved. Now will I be no more thrall of thine, 
but my hand shall be against thee with fire and 
sword.” And before any could stay him he had gone. 

Then some cried that he should be followed and 
brought back, but Jarl Hilderbrand rose and said — 

“ Let no man stop him. When the heart is hot 
the lips are foolish. Jarl shall not be stayed. He 
has taken his punishment and is no nithing. Would 
he were different and noble, for his heart is good.” 

And that is the way in which the neatherd fell into 
the power of the witch, and was beaten in JarlHilder- 
brand’s castle. 


74 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER VI 

HOW THE WHITE OLAF CAME TO JARL 

N OW though Droma of the Golden Hair had sat 
and seen the neatherd beaten, and had given 
no sign so that people could think shame of her, still 
her gentle and true heart felt the pain, as though the 
blows had been hers and not his ; and her eyes were 
full of tears when she went back to the castle with 
the White Olaf by her side, and she said to him — 

“ O Prince Olaf, I will go to my own chamber 
and rest, for I am weary.” And the prince knew 
well that it was not because she was weary, but be- 
cause her heart was full of tears. But he thought 
this was from pity only, for how should he know that 
Droma, the Jarl’s daughter, loved the wild-looking 
neatherd. But afterwards, when he sat with the 
young men in the castle hall, talking, there were 
some there who made jest of it, knowing that it would 
not come to the ears of old Jarl Hilderbrand, and 
amongst these was Harold Wolfang, who was glad 
indeed to have seen Jarl beaten. 

Besides, Wolfang had other motives of his own. 
He knew that the White Olaf had come to woo the 
Lady Droma, and he wanted to anger him and send 
him away, so that he himself might seize her for his 
bride, by the aid of Red Sweth, his father, and carry 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


75 


her away where men might not rescue her. But 
when the young Prince Olaf heard him sneering and 
laughing that the Lady Droma should weep for her 
neatherd lover, Olaf’s anger rose, and he seized the 
warlock’s son round the waist, and hurled him from 
the casement, so that he fell souse into the well out- 
side, and had to be picked out by the thralls ; and 
the White Olaf said — 

“ There, Harold, the warlock’s son, let that cool 
thy head and silence thy tongue, unless, indeed, thou 
wilt like to complain to the king, my father.” But 
Wolfang dared not do this, so he held his tongue and 
bided his time, determined that if ever the enemy 
came against the White Olaf, he himself would go to 
them, and help to lead them against the man who had 
flung him into a well. 

Now presently Olaf went and sat alone, pondering 
and wondering how much of this story was true. 

His father, the king, had commanded him to woo 
the Lady Droma, and she was very fair, so that he 
was minded to do this thing. But then, if she loved 
another, Olaf would not try to steal that love away, 
even if it was only for a thrall, so he sat pondering 
what he should do, and presently Droma herself came 
and joined him, and she said — 

“ Prince Olaf, I thank thee for the way in which 
thou didst serve the son of Red Sweth, for my maidens 
have told me about that.” 

So Prince Olaf bent before her and offered his 
life for her service if he could make her happy, and 
he said — 

“ Oh Droma of the Golden Hair, you well know 
tliat I came hither to woo thee. Tell me, therefore 


76 THE SAGA OF 

if this fellow’s story is true or false,” and to this did 
Droma answer — 

“ It is true, Prince Olaf. Thou mayst woo me, but 
thou canst never win my heart, for that is lost already ; 
nay, it never has been mine, but always Jarl’s.” 

“ And thou canst love a thrall ! ” cried the prince 
in surprise ; but Droma answered gently — 

“ Yes, prince, for he is nobler far than many a 
freeman.” 

“ And are you happy. Lady Droma ? ” said the 
prince. “ Nay, I can see the tears on your cheeks. 
You are sad, as I can well guess.” 

“ Alas ! Prince,” she answered, “ I know not why 
I thus speak to you, but something tells me that I 
am to trust you. How can I help being sad after 
this ? You have seen how Jarl has become.” 

“ His love for you should have kept him from this,” 
answered Olaf. 

“ Perhaps it should, prince. But he has been 
hardly dealt with ; ” and Droma told Olaf all the story 
of Jarl’s doings, and how he had been sent away, 
and she said — 

“ And now I know that alone in the mountains, 
with his heart sad and lonely, evil witches and trolls 
have tried to win him, and this is why he has fallen. 
Often in my dreams have I seen them tempting him, 
and I have cried out to him to beware. But, alas ! 
Now he has been maddened by this disgrace, and he 
has torn off the thrall-collar, so that he is outlaw, 
and all men may slay him ; and I know he will flee 
to the Vikings, or turn berserker, and I shall never 
see him more. Alas ! Prince Olaf, have I not good 
reason to be sad ? ” 


77 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

Then did the White Olaf try to comfort Droma ; 
and after she was gone, he went and bade the men 
saddle his steed, and he sprang to the saddle and 
rode off, telling none where he was going. 

Through the forest he rode, and away towards the 
mountains, for Prince Olaf was minded to go and 
see Jarl the Neatherd, who was now Jarl the outlaw, 
and he was minded to tell him of Droma’s grief, and 
seek to make him turn to a nobler life, that she might 
not be shamed. 

All through the night he galloped and galloped, 
and presently he came to the mountains, and there, 
far up, he saw the hut wherein the neatherd dwelt, 
though he knew not whether he should now find him 
there. But when he drew rein and sprang from his 
horse, he found his ride was not in vain. There, 
before the fire, sat Jarl, his spear in his hand, a frown 
on his face ; and as he saw the prince, he started 
up and cried — 

“ Who art thou who rides alone at night, when 
honest men are asleep ? Art thou a robber come 
for the oxen of Jarl Hilder brand ? No longer do I 
owe him service, for I am a nameless man and outlaw, 
but still thou shalt not touch even a horn. So declare 
thyself, or I will pierce thee.” 

But the prince answered quietly — 

“ No robber of herds am I, Jarl, son of Olin ; 1 
am thy prince, known as the White Olaf, and I sat 
by the Lady Droma’s side and saw thee beaten this 
afternoon.” 

Then did Jarl grind his teeth, and he shook with 
anger. 

“ Art thou tired of thy life, prince, that thou hast 


THE SAGA OF 


78 

come hither to tell me tliis, when almost the ber- 
serker’s rage is upon me ? Go while thou art safe — 
go back to Droma of the Golden Hair. Thou art 
worthy to be her lover, and thou wilt bring her no 
shame. Go back to Droma, and say that the outlaw 
Jarl bids her forget his name, and be no more shamed.” 

But Olin answered Jarl, and said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, the heart of a true lady cannot 
forget its love, even though shame has come. That 
shame may make her suffer ^ but not forget. The heart 
of Droma of the Golden Hair is like the purest crystal 
of the mines ; it is like the truest blade that ever 
flashed in the war light ; it is costly as the costliest, 
precious as the most precious, and Jarl, son of Olin, 
this heart and this treasure is thine, and not mine, 
though I came to woo the lady.” 

Jarl listened and frowned, and then he said sul- 
lenly — 

“ What wouldst thou of me, O Wliite Olaf ? ” 

“ Jarl,” said the prince, “ thy heart is bitter, for 
the blows have sunk into it. Now this I know. Thou 
must seek to. conquer. Thou must not run away and 
become outlaw. Be patient but a little, and I will 
persuade the king, my father, to set you free ; and 
you shall come with me to the war, and gain honour 
and fame, and a name, and then shalt thou come 
back without fear, and ask Hilderbrand for Droma 
of the Golden Hair.” 

So spoke the noble Prince Olaf, and it would have 
been well had Jarl paid heed to his words. But, 
alas ! the stripes had sunk into his heart, and the 
witch and evil trolls had been whispering in his ear, 
and already the berserker spirit w^as growing in him. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


79 

so that he cared for nothing but doing evil, like the 
werewolf did. 

And he answered the prince hotly, and bade him 
begone and speak with him no more. 

“ Thinkest thou,” he said, “ that I will ever look 
the Lady Droma in the face again, after she has seen 
me beaten ? Go, Prince Olaf, go and woo her if thou 
canst ; but go now, for my heart is fierce, and my 
spear is sharp, and the hour is a bad one for you to 
talk with me.” 

Now Prince Olaf saw that Jarl’s heart was filled 
with rage, and that the hour was indeed bad, so he 
said — 

“ It is even as thou sayest, Jarl, son of Olin. The 
hour is bad. Yet I will see thee again, if thou wilt 
stay till the day, for this I know : Hilderbrand will 
send no pursuit after thee, and thou art safe here. 
To-morrow I will come again, and then will we speak 
more of thine affairs.” And with this the noble Olaf 
galloped away and left Jarl alone, for indeed had he 
stayed longer he knew that the neatherd would have 
attacked him. 

And when he had gone the witch Crawilla and the 
wicked trolls came trooping up to Jarl, for they knew 
that now the stripes had sunk into his heart they could 
come easily enough, and they talked with him, and 
tried to win him for themselves. 

And Jarl listened to them, for his soul was dark, 
and Crawilla said — 

“ Oh, Jarl, Jarl, there is but one thing for thee now, 
and that is revenge. I will make thee the magic 
drink that shall turn thee into a berserker, and I will 
bring thee other berserkers, and thou shalt be chief 


8o 


THE SAGA OF 


of a brave band that shall make all men fear, and 
shall scatter destruction upon all who have been thine 
enemies. Thou hast done a man’s deed in tearing 
off the thrall-collar and freeing thyself ; now do 
another and let thy foes know that thou art to be 
feared. Thou canst not see Droma in thy shame ; thou 
canst see her when she is thy captive, and kneeling 
before thee for mercy.” 

Then Jarl shook his spear in the air and cried — 

“ Thou sayest right, witch. This alone is left me 
to do now, and this will I do. Go and bring the drink, 
and I will become chief of the wild berserkers, and 
then let Jarl Hilderbrand and the Red Olaf look to it. 

Right joyfully did Crawilla and the trolls hurry 
off when they heard this, and poor foolish Jarl rose 
and, going out of the hut, he sat down on a moss- 
covered stone, and as it happened, all unknowingly, 
he sat down in the midst of a fairy ring, where the 
good people had danced, and then all the wicked 
thoughts brought to him by Crawilla had no more 
power, but faded away, and he knew how foolish he 
had been, and that it was his own fault he had come 
to this shame, and so grieved the Lady Droma. 

And he thought of the generous Prince, and of the 
way he had answered him, and then his poor bruised 
heart grew soft, and Jarl bowed his head and wept ; 
and then the moon stole out and let its light fall upon 
him, and when Crawilla and the wicked trolls came 
hurrying back, there sat Jarl beyond their reach. 

Dear me, how they did go on ! They sat all round 
that ring, looking at him just like hungry-eyed wolves 
sit looking at the sheepfold ; and they cried to him, 
saying — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


Si 


“ Jarl, Jarl, come, for the drink is ready. Come, 
for the berserker band are waiting for their brave 
leader. Jarl, Jarl, come from the fairy ring to thy 
friends.” 

Perhaps Jarl would not have had the power to 
disobey them ; he had indeed just risen to step over 
the magic line, when, to his surprise, he saw a form, 
all thin and shining like a cloud in the summer sunset, 
and this form was that of the Golden-Haired Droma ! 



“ROUND THE FAIRY RING SHE FLOATED SLOWLY.’* 


Round the fairy ring she floated slowly, her hands 
outstretched as if to keep him in, and Jarl felt that 
she was bidding him stay within its safety, and he 
sat down again on the stone ; while Crawilla and her 
trolls, seeing that far off the day was beginning to 
break, upset the magic drink and flew off, looking 
green and blue with anger that they had not got Jarl 
quite into their power. 


F 


82 


THE SAGA OF 


Then the form of Droma melted away, and just 
as the first faint pink dawn light kissed the highest 
of the mountain peaks he heard a voice calling to 
him — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, Jarl, son of Olin ! ” 

He listened and looked round in surprise. Who 
was this calling to him so clearly, when not a soul 
was to be seen ? 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, come up here to me,” said the 
voice again, and Jarl thought that it sounded from 
the very topmost of the mountain crags. 

He started to his feet and listened. Yes, he was 
certain it was so ! Some one was calling to him to 
climb up there ; and still grasping his spear, J arl 
commenced his journey up the steep and slippery 
side of the great mountain peak, which rose so solemn 
and lonely, high above him. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


83 


CHAPTER VII 

VRYDA THE WISE GIVES JARL THE MAGIC SHOES 

N OW Jarlthe Neatherd knew all the ways of the 
mountain, for there was not a peak or crag 
which he had not climbed, both in summer when the 
flowers bloomed, and in winter when the ice lay cold 
and gleaming; and yet somehow the mountain path 
seemed all strange to him now ! 

It was steeper and harder to travel, and there were 
great chasms and yawning precipices, such as he did 
not remember having seen before. His legs ached, 
and his feet were wounded and bleeding, for they 
were all bare — he had got into a habit of being without 
his shoes, except in the coldest weather. 

Also his back was stiff and smarting from the beat- 
ing he had received by the orders of the Jarl ; and 
again and again he stopped, almost breathless, by 
the wayside, thinking that after all it was silly to go 
all this way up the mountain to see who was calling 
to him. 

“ Tis most likely some witch or troll making mock 
of me,” he thought. “ I know the mountain caves 
are full of them, and they try to lure poor travellers 
to their death, and push them over the sides of the 
precipices, or send the avalanches rolling down upon 
them. I will not go up.” 


84 


THE SAGA OF 


But whenever he stopped and thought that, he 
heard the voice calling to him and saying — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin ; Jarl, son of Olin, come up hither 
to me.” 

And the voice was very soft and sweet ; not a bit 
like the harsh raven tones of the witch Crawilla, or 
the monkey chatter of the evil trolls, and it seemed 
to get right into his heart, and tell him that this was 
no wicked witch or storm-sister calling to him. 

So each time he had rested and sat listening to the 
calling he went on again, toiling up and up, and 
struggling along, sometimes even crawling when it 
was too steep to walk. 

Then evil forms began to gather in his path, and 
mocking voices called to him bidding him cease being 
foolish, and go back ; and the storm-sisters flew by 
on the clouds, and sought to pluck him away, and 
sweep him down to his death, but ever and ever the 
voice kept calling — 

“Jarl, son of Olin ; Jarl, son of Olin, come up hither 
to me.” 

“ Never did I see this wild pass before,” he thought 
presently, as he reached one halting-place. “ I must 
be bewitched, for surely this mountain has not moved 
or changed, and yet it is all new to me. Alas ! it is 
too steep ; I cannot climb farther.” 

But the voice kept on calling, calling, and the words 
as they fell on poor Jarl’s ears gave him fresh courage, 
and it seemed as if he must keep on until he either 
reached the topmost crags, or fell dead by the way. 
Now here it was all ice and snow and silence, though 
down in the valleys the air was warm, and the flowers 
grew. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 85 

Far away, lying in the shadow, he could see the 
dark ocean-waves tossing and foaming at the foot 
of the cliffs ; and he could see the castle where the 
Jarl Hilderbrand dwelt, and where the lovely Droma 
of the Golden Hair was sleeping, and he wondered if 
she was thinking of him, and if she wept because of 
his shame. 

Then a great bear ambled by and growled — 

“ Go back, Jarl, go back ; ’tis cold and cheerless 
up here, and there dwells no man. Go back.” 

But Jarl smote the bear with his spear, and made 
it run away grunting. 

“ Oh ! oh ! what a terrible fierce being is the 
neatherd Jarl.” 

Then a great night owl flew by him, hooting — 

“ Go back, Jarl, go back ! None dwell here ! Only 
cold, and silence, and death ; for here the storm-sisters 
sit and braid their long locks when the wind has 
tossed them to and fro.” 

But the voice was still crying — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, Jarl, son of Olin, come up hither 
to me,” and Jarl panted out — 

“ Go your way, bird of the night, go your way, and 
let me go mine, for I will reach the topmost crag or 
I will perish ! ” and he staggered on, guiding his feet 
by help of his spear. 

And then, behold, there came a great mountain 
goat, and the goat bleated and said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, take hold of my horns, and I 
will help you.” 

So Jarl took hold of the goat’s horns, and the great 
shaggy creature ran bounding from crag to crag and 
carrying Jarl with him over places where no traveller 


86 


THE SAGA OF 


might pass alone ; and presently he reached the top- 
most crag, and still the voice sounded yet above Jarl, 
crying— 

“ Jarl, son of Olin ; come up hither to me.” 

“ Jarl, I can take you no farther,” said the goat 
then, and Jarl sighed and answered — 

“ Oh, mountain goat, I thank thee, yet I fear my 
journey is in vain, for the voice is still above me, and 
how can I climb through the air, which is the birds’ 
road and the storm-sisters’ road ? ” 

Then the goat bleated again, and lifted its head 
and cried — 

“ Oh, eagle, eagle, come and help Jarl, son of Olin,” 
and, with a great whirr, a mighty eagle swept down 
and lighted beside the neatherd, and said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, take hold of my feathers, and 
I will carry you to her who bids you come.” 

So Jarl took hold of the eagle’s feathers, and the 
great bird spread its wings and flew up and up into 
the air, which is the birds’ road and the storm-sisters’ 
road, and just then the sun rose clear from the sea, and 
shone on all the mountain way up which he had come. 

And up and up flew the eagle, and presently Jarl 
saw a great cave, all made of rosy cloud, and seated 
in it was a silver-haired old woman, who looked older 
than the oldest, and was yet young and fair as the 
youngest ; and she was seated at a spinning-wheel, 
and spinning blessings for the earth-dwellers. 

Then the eagle set Jarl down and said — 

“ Vryda the Wise, I have brought Jarl, the son 
of Olin, to you, for he tried to obey your call, and 
climbed the mountain way, nor was he discouraged 
by its difficulties ; ” and Vryda smiled and said — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


87 


“ Eagle, you have done well.” 

Then the eagle spread his wings again and flew off, 
and left Jarl standing in the cloud cave, and looking 
at Vryda the Wise. 

And Vryda spun and spun, and as she did so she 
looked at Jarl and smiled, and the smile came to his 
troubled heart like the kiss of the sun to 



the frost-bound earth ; and she said in a low 
sweet voice — 

“ Well, Jarl, do you remember me ? ” 

Now Jarl looked at her eagerly, and her face was 
like the memory of a child-dream, and he answered 
and said — 

“ Oh, Vryda, I know you, though it is many a day 
since I saw you. You spoke with me when I was a 
child, and chided me that I had not my shoes on.” 


88 


THE SAGA OF 


“ And you have no shoes on now,” she answered, 
looking at his feet. “ Jarl, he who would walk life’s 
road must have his feet protected, or he will fall. 
Now, Jarl, sit by me while I spin, and tell me of all 
thy troubles.” 

So Jarl sat by her side, and the wheel kept going 
whirr, whirr, like music, and Vryda sang the songs 
of the good, and listened while he told her all his 
trouble, and how he loved Droma the Golden Haired. 
Then, when he had finished, Vryda said — 

“Jarl, love should have taught you to be noble 
and patient ; but I know how Crawilla tempted you, 
and how she gave you the magic drink, and I hindered 
you from taking it, and made you sit within the fairy 
ring. Now Jarl, do you remember that I once told 
you you would need other shoes to wear ? ” 

“Yes,” answered Jarl in wonder, and his voice 
w£is low, for none speak loud when Vryda the Wise 
talks with them. 

“Now those shoes you must have,” she said. “ But, 
Jarl, listen, they will not be easy to wear, and they 
will often cause you pain ; yet if you will wear them, 
you will conquer both your foes and yourself — and 
you are your own worst foe, Jarl.” 

“ Oh, Vryda, I do not understand that,” he an- 
swered. “ How am I my own foe ? ” 

“WTio brought you to your shame, Jarl?” she 
said. “ None of your enemies did that. When you 
were patient and brave, you shamed them all ; but 
when your heart grew bitter, then you failed. Did 
any man force you to become Jarl the careless ? ” 

“ No,” confessed Jarl, and he hung his head in 
shame. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 89 

“Did any man cause you to be Jarl the untidy, 
so that you look like a wild berserker ? ” 

“ No,” said Jarl, and he hung his head lower. 

“ Did any man cause Droma to feel shamed by 
you ? When you were brave and patient, did she 
not stand by your side ? ” 

“Yes,” said Jarl; and then he cried — 

“Oh, Vryda the Wise, I understand now ! Truly, 
I am my own worst enemy.” 

“Now you must learn to conquer yourself, that 
you may conquer all your other foes,” answered Vryda, 
“ and you must wear the shoes which I will give you, 
and their names are Patience and Duty ; they will 
hurt your feet sometimes, but you must not kick 
either of them off. So long as you are brave and true 
you will feel no pain, but if you seek to do that which 
is not right, Duty will hurt you. It will lead you 
where you should go, but perhaps the way will seem 
hard. Should you seek to take another path, then 
the shoe will pinch you till you go back to the way 
it has shown. If you are weary. Patience will help 
you walk easily ; but if you seek to stop in the journey, 
then Patience will hurt you till you go on again.” 

“ Those will be good shoes,” cried Jarl ; but Vryda 
shook her head. 

“ They will not be easy ones to journey in. But 
remember, Jarl, that if when they hurt you you should 
kick them off, then Crawilla and the wicked trolls will 
have power to harm you, and they will be ever watch- 
ing to try and take these shoes away from you, and 
get you into their power, for Crawilla desires to make 
you become her berserker, that she may send you to kill 
the poor people, and make women and children weep.” 


90 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Indeed, Vryda the Wise, I will try and bear the 
pain, and keep the shoes on,” answered Jarl, and 
Vryda smiled and stroked his rough hair. 

“ I think you will, Jarl ; and sometimes the shoes 
will bring you to talk with me, for Vryda would be your 
friend. Now will I get them for you.” 

Then Vryda rose from her spinning-wheel and 
went to the door of her cloud cave and sang a low 
sweet song, the words of which Jarl did not under- 
stand, but the sound of her voice was like the foun- 
tains splashing on the cool stones on a hot summer’s 
day, and it seemed to make Jarl calm and peaceful ; 
and then there came flying through the birds’ road 
four little air-spirits, and they bore between them 
the magic shoes Duty and Patience, and they said — 

Take them, Jarl, and wear them well ; 

They will guard from evil spell. 

Keep them ever on thy feet : 

Then all perils you may meet. 

Patience — Duty — these will be. 

Ever shield and guido to thee. 

Truly, they were strange-looking shoes, and not 
a bit alike — Patience seemed made of soft leather, 
but Duty was fashioned of hard steel ; yet when Jarl 
put them on, both felt alike, and both looked alike, 
so that only he could say which was the one and 
which was the other. 

Then when he had put these on, Vryda smiled 
again and said — 

“Now Jarl, before you go back, you shall come 
with me to the sunbeam land from which you came, 
and where you knew Droma of the Golden Hair before, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


91 


and there shall you speak to her, for she sleeps and 
dreams of thee, and my servants will carry her 
hither.” 

Then she touched him, and all in a moment Jarl 
was standing in a beautiful garden, in which bloomed 
all the most lovely flowers, such as are never seen 
on the sad earth, and where sang such sweet-voiced 
birds that all the air was filled with golden happy 
melody ; and here as he stood, Droma of the Golden 
Hair came up to him and put her arms round his neck 
and kissed him, and he did not notice a bit that his 
clothes were torn and dirty, for they seemed to be 
all rosy bright, even as hers were. 

And Jarl placed his arm round her waist and drew 
her close to his side, though she was the Jarl’s daugh- 
ter and he was the thrall, for in the sunbeam land 
these things are not known. Only he knew that 
Droma and he were very dear to each other, and 
always had been, and always would be so, even when 
they left the world below and came back to the sun- 
beam land to stay there for ever; for here Jarl and 
Droma were each part of the other, so that one was 
not perfect without the other. 

But, alas ! while he was talking with her, suddenly 
he felt a terrible pain in one of his feet — that which 
wore the shoe Duty — and he found his foot turning 
away from the sunbeam land back towards the earth. 

But Jarl wanted to tarry where he was, and he tried 
to bear the pain and say nothing of it ; but this he 
could not, for it got worse and worse, and suddenly 
he stopped and put his hand to the shoe, and was just 
going to drag it off, when he remembered his promise 
to Vryda, so he cried — 


92 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Farewell, Droma of the Golden Hair — farewell, 
beloved, for I must go where duty bids me.” 

Then Droma smiled and kissed him, and Jarl saw 
that she still wore the cr5^tal necklet which he had 
given to her long, long ago, and that now it glowed 
with more beautiful colours than it had ever showed 
before ; and Droma answered — 

“ Go, beloved ; be brave and conquer, for you are 
my Jarl.” 

Then Jarl stepped bravely to the edge of the sun- 
beam land, and there beneath him was the birds’ 
road, and the eagle waiting for him ; and the great 
bird took him back to the mountain peak, and then 
the goat carried him down to the plain, and there, 
once more, stood Jarl beside his hut, while on the hills 
the cattle were all straying this way and that, because 
no man was there to tend them. 


JARL THE NEATHERD, 


93 


CHAPTER VIII 

HOW THE MAGIC SHOES HURT JARL 

W ELL, there beside his hut stood Jarl ; and he 
looked at the oxen wandering where they 
would, and saw that perhaps some of them would fall 
over the precipice and be killed ; but he said — 

“ I have taken the iron thrall-collar from off my 
neck, and am an outlaw and a nameless man ; I am 
no more a thrall of Hilderbrand’s, and ’tis no business 
of mine if his cattle stray. I will take my spear and 
go and join the Vikings, and gain another name that 
men shall know, and then I will come back for Droma 
of the Golden Hair.” 

But, dear ! dear ! No sooner had he got these words 
out, than that foot which had Duty upon it began to 
hurt him most dreadfully, and kept turning in the 
direction of the herds, as if bidding him go and gather 
them and tend them again. 

“ I am not Hilderbrand’s thrall ! ” he said again. 
“ I will not do this,” but then the shoe pinched him 
worse than ever ; so that, man as he was, he cried out. 

And then he heard a wicked laugh, and there stood 
the witch Crawilla, and she said — 

“ Jarl, Jarl, is this thy brave spirit ? Pluck off that 
silly shoe and come with me, for the berserkers are 
waiting for their leader.” 

But, dear me ! at this the shoe hurt still more, and 


94 


THE SAGA OF 


it was just as if his foot was trying to run away from 
him after the oxen. 

“ I will not listen ter your words, witch,” he cried 
to Crawilla. “Go away, and tempt me no more.” 

“Then will I make trouble for you, Jarl,” cried 
Crawilla ; and she flew off in a rage. 

“ Well,” said Jarl, “ she has gone ! Now I suppose 
I must obey these shoes and go after the cattle, though, 
as I am no more the Jarl’s thrall, I do not see why I 
should do this thing.” 

So Jarl started to gather the cattle ; and the moment 
he did that, the shoe ceased to hurt his foot. 

But it was hard trying work ; for now the oxen did 
not know him and would not come to him as they used 
to do, for he had treated them so unkindly that they 
were all frightened of him, and when he got near them, 
if they did not run, they lowered their horns, and 
bellowed angrily. 

Besides, the witch sent a lot of her trolls to scatter 
them ; so that Jarl had to toil and toil this way and 
that, yet still the herds were not gathered ; and at last 
he lost patience and sat down, crying — 

“ Surely that is enough. If His my duty to try and 
tend the cattle, I have tried to do it ; but no man can 
keep on and on like this, for the witch has surely cast 
a spell on the creatures.” 

But then, oh dear ! Patience began to pinch his 
other foot, so that he had to jump up with a cry of 
pain; and then Crawilla appeared,andlaughed,and said — 

“ 0, Jarl ! Jarl ! is tending cattle that keep fleeing 
the work for a man who has rent the thrall-collar from 
his neck ? Come with me, for the berserkers await 
their leader.” But Jarl answered — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 95 

“Get thee gone, witch, and tempt me no more, for 
I will not lead thy berserkers.” 

“ Then shall the berserkers come against thee,” cried 
Crawilla, and again she flew off. 

“ Well,” said Jarl, “ I suppose I must try for the 
cattle again, for this shoe keeps hurting my foot, and 
I cannot bear the pain.” 

Up he got, and once more he began the chase, when, 
lying in the grass, he caught sight of the pipes upon 
which he used to play to the cattle ; and he stooped 
and picked them up, and putting them to his lips he 
began to blow. 

And then all the old tune came back, and Jarl heard 
the voices of the forest and mountain speaking to him 
and joining in the song which the pipes were singing ; 
and the words were the same ones they had sung long 
ago— 

Fairest of maidens in all Olaf’s kingdom, 

Fairest of all is the Golden Haired Droma, 

Sweeter than all is Jarl Hilderbrand’s daughter 
None are like to her, not in all Norway. 

White is her skin like the snow on the mountain. 

Blue are her eyes as the sky in the summer. 

Sweet is her voice as the song of the skylark, 

True is her heart as the sword of her father. 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norway, 

Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

So sang the pipes ; and when the cattle heard the 
song they all ceased their straying, and came crowding 
back around Jarl, and they looked at him with their 
great soft eyes, and they lowed — 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norv'ay, 

Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 


96 


THE SAGA OF 


And then Jarl plucked the green leaves for them, 
and rubbed their shaggy fronts as he had done in the 
old days ; and the great oxen rubbed their heads on 
his shoulder, and Jarl knew that they were glad 
because the evil spirit was gone, and he loved them 
again. 

But when he had gathered them all safely, suddenly 
from the mountain there came two fierce berserkers, 
waving great clubs in their hands, and shouting as they 
came up — 

“ Jarl, since thou wilt not come and lead us, stand 
aside and let us slay the cattle, for thou hast torn the 
thrall-collar from thy neck, and this is no business of 
thine. Therefore stand aside, or we will slay thee.” 

“ Now,” thought Jarl, “ they say truly, for I have 
taken off the thrall-collar, and this is no business of 
mine. And, moreover, how can a man fight two 
berserkers ? Therefore the cattle must go.” 

But oh ! how Duty began to pinch his foot again. 
He wanted to turn and let the berserkers do as they 
desired ; but his feet began to take him towards them, 
and he laughed to himself — 

“ Well, it seems that Vryda’s shoes will get me slain, 
for they will carry me to these berserkers, and they 
will vanquish me. But they are the witch’s servants, 
and I will not yield to her,” and as he said this Duty 
ceased to hurt his foot. 

And Jarl felt a joy in his heart, for he knew he was 
going to play the man’s game and do man’s work ; 
and if he died it would be as a man and a hero should 
die ; so he seized his stout spear, and he cried — 

“ There are the cattle, and here am I. Now, ber- 
serkers, take them if thou canst.” 



“ Thou hast killed my friend, but thou canst not slay me." 

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JARL THE NEATHERD 


97 

“ Dost thou mean to defy us ? ” cried the berserkers. 
“ Then thou shalt surely die.” 

“ If to die is duty, then will I die,” answered Jarl 
stoutly ; and he ran forward to meet the foe. 

Now the first berserker raised his club and aimed a 
dreadful blow at the neatherd ; but Jarl dodged it, 
and the next moment he had stricken the berserker 
with his spear, so that the wild man fell back slain. 

“ Thou hast killed my friend, but thou canst not 
slay me,” roared the other of his foes ; and he too 
rushed at Jarl. 

But Jarl swung his spear round, and struck the club 
from the other’s grasp, and then together they rolled 
over on the ground, struggling and twisting. 

Now did Jarl learn how good had been his training, 
and how it had helped to make him strong ; for though 
the berserker was so fierce, Jarl was strong almost as 
he, and he was younger and more active. 

For two hours did they wrestle all alone, and the 
berserker tore him with his nails and bit him with his 
teeth, but Jarl never let go his hold, and at last his 
foe cried — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, let me go, and I will leave the 
cattle alone.” 

Then did Jarl laugh as they struggled ; and he made 
answer — 

“ There are the cattle, take them if thou canst, ber- 
serker. For thine own pleasure didst thou seek to 
play the man’s game with me, and for my pleasure will 
we still play,” and with this he managed to scramble 
to his feet, and picking his wearied enemy up, he flung 
him over the precipice, and sank back almost fainting 
with the exertion, but without having lost one of the 
cattle. G 


THE SAGA OF 


98 

“ Now, truly, that is all I need do for Jarl Hilder- 
brand, seeing that I have torn the thrall-collar from 
my neck and no more owe him service,” he said ; and 
then as he turned he saw Vryda the Wise standing 
beside him. 

“Well hast thou done, Jarl, and nobly hast thou 
listened to the warning of Patience and Duty,” she 
said. “ But thou art in error.” 

“ O, Vryda, how is that ? ” he asked. “ I have 
slain the berserkers.” 

“ But thou hast not conquered thyself, and thou art 
a fiercer foe to thyself than were these berserkers to 
thee.” 

Then Jarl sat down on the grass at her feet, and he 
said — 

“ Read me the riddle, Vryda, for I cannot under- 
stand it.” 

So Vryda held out her hand ; and lo ! in it was the 
iron thrall-collar ; and she said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, what is this ? ” 

Then did Jarl laugh, and answered — 

“ Why, Vryda, that is my old thrall-collar, which 
these fingers tore from my neck when I told Jarl Hilder- 
brand that I would no longer serve him, and so became 
an outlaw and nameless man.” 

But Vryda answered — 

“ Because thou hast tom oft the thrall-collar, does 
that make thee freeman, Jarl ? Because thou hast said 
thou wilt not be thrall, has Hilderbrand set thee free 
as he did Olin, thy father ? Jarl, we cannot get from 
slavery in that way ! The serf may call himself free, 
and dress in fine attire, but he is still the serf. The 
noble may have the thrall-collar on and be in rags, but 


99 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

he is stni noble. Freedom and nobility come from 
within, not without. Jarl, I leave this with thee. 
Thou hast conquered the berserkers. Now thou must 
fight thyself ! If thou dost conquer, call for me, and 
I will come.” 

“ How shall I know if I conquer ? ” cried Jarl, and 
Vryda said — 

“ Duty will tell thee, Jarl, son of Olin,” and then 
the neatherd was alone again, only his hands and arms 
were all tom and wounded, and the dead berserker 
lay on the ground. 

“ Now,” said Jarl, “ I wonder what Vryda meant, 
and why she has left me this old thrall-collar, for 
surely she cannot mean — no ! she cannot mean that,” 
and Jarl started up in anger as the thought came that 
Vryda the Wise wanted him to put on the iron thrall- 
collar once again. 

But then, oh, how Duty hurt him ! He could scarce 
bear the agony. He did not want to take off the shoe, 
for he felt so much happier now, and he knew he had 
done man’s work, and done it well. But to do this ! To 
humble himself and put on the thrall-collar after he 
had torn it off ! Why, all men would laugh at him 
and call him nithing. 

“ I cannot do it, I cannot do it ! ” he sobbed ; and 
then there was Crawilla sitting laughing at him. 

“ Ho, ho, Jarl ! ” she said. “ Go on, put on the 
thrall-collar and be the humble slave. I would have 
thee be the brave leader of brave men, and go a -viking, 
carrying fire and sword. Vryda would have thee a 
poor thrall ! Come with me.” 

“ I will come with you,” he cried for the moment, 
for truly it seemed shame to put on the collar again. 


100 


THE SAGA OF 


“ I will pluck off the shoes and come with you.” But 
then the cattle lowed, and Jarl knew their words, and 
they said — 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norway, 

Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

“ I will not listen to your tempting,” he cried sud- 
denly. “ Go, Crawilla ; I have conquered your ber- 
serkers, I will conquer my own pride, which is more 
dreadful. It is Duty which bids me do this, and I will 
do it,” and again the witch disappeared. 

Now Jarl stood holding the iron collar, and his heart 
was very sad ; yet still he knew that this must be done, 
if he was not to be false to all he had promised Vryda ; 
so he made a great effort and he called her name, and 
then she stood before him and held out her hand, and 
he placed the collar in it. 

“ Bow thy head, Jarl, son of Olin,” she said, and he 
did as she bade him. 

Then Vryda the Wise took the collar and placed it 
round his neck, and at her bidding it fastened itself 
once again as if it had never been rent asunder ; and 
she said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, no hero in Norroway has this day 
done grander deed than that thou hast, and none shall 
have greater reward,” and then she also disappeared. 

Now the iron thrall-collar weighed heavy and cold 
on Jarl’s neck ; but the shoes Duty and Patience did 
not hurt him now, and his heart was full of peace. 

“ Well,” he thought to himself, “ here I am, just 
back where I started. However, I suppose it will be 
all right, and now what is the next thing these wonder- 
ful shoes will bid me do ? Go to Hilderbrand, I sup- 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


lOI 


pose, and that will mean another beating,” and at 
this Jarl laughed somewhat bitterly, and said again — 

“ Jarl, Jarl, thou art getting truly valiant if thou 
canst tamely go to be beaten like a dog after thou hast 
once tom off the thrall-collar.” 

But the shoes did not begin to lead him away towards 
the castle of Hilderbrand, but towards his own hut, 
and there he saw all the nice tidy clothing which Elsper 
his good mother had brought for him, and which he 
had so ungratefully refused to wear. And he caught 
sight of his shaggy hair and beard reflected in the well 
from which he drew the water for the oxen, and that 
made him^ feel quite ashamed, for indeed he looked 
very like a wild berserker himself. 

Jarl did not wait for the shoes to begin to pinch, 
but he drew great buckets of water, and splashed and 
washed till his face shone all red and rosy, and then he 
combed out all his tangled locks, and he cut his long 
untidy beard and dressed in the clothes which Elsper 
had brought for him ; and when he had done this he 
looked in the well, and laughed again. 

“ Come, Jarl,” he said, shaking his head, “ now thou 
dost look more like a man and less like a wild creature ! 
Why, if thou hast had no more thought of thyself than 
to go like that, ’tis little wonder that no one else has had 
any thought of thee.” 

But then he stopped, for he knew that was not true. 
His mother had thought of him all along, and he 
knew that in her heart Droma of the Golden Hair had 
thought of him too. 

Well, he sat there pondering awhile, and the shoes 
did not tell him anything, and then he picked up his 
pipe and began to play, just as he had done of old; 


103 


THE SAGA OF 


and lo, while he was playing, there came the galloping 
of horses, and he rose to see Jarl Hilderbrand and Red 
Olaf and many followers come galloping hard and 
fast towards him. 

“Now,” thought Jarl, “I wonder what this may 
mean! Perhaps they are come to seize me for being 
an outlawed man,” and he rose to grasp his spear and 
defend himself, or flee as case might be, and then the 
king and Jarl came galloping up. 

And that is how the magic shoes first showed the 
neatherd what he was to do. 


J^iRL THE NEATHERD 


103 


CHAPTER IX 


HOW PRINCE OLAF THE WHITE SWORE FRIENDSHIP 
WITH JARL 



P to Jarl galloped Hilderbrand and King Olaf ; 


u and Hilderbrand did not recognize his neatherd 
in the man who stood, so neat and quiet, before him, 
so he cried aloud — 

“ Say, good friend, hast thou seen aught of a man 
looking wild as a berserker, he who was called Jarl, my 
neatherd, but is now outlaw^ and nameless, because he 
hath torn off the thrall-collar ? And hast thou seen 
aught of the berserkers, who, I hear, have come hither 
to steal my cattle ? I fear that the herds have gone, 
for that rascal Jarl is not here to tend them.” 

“ I have seen the berserkers, O Jarl,” was the answer, 
“ and I have seen the outlaw and nameless man, and 
he is slain and no longer lives.” 

“ Slain ! ” cried the Jarl. “ Now for that I grieve, 
for wild as he was, he was a man, and therefore I loved 
him somewhat. W\io has slain Jarl ? ” 

“ I slew Jarl the nameless,” was the answer, “ I, 
who am Jarl the Neatherd, born-thrall of Hilderbrand,” 
and then he turned to the light, and they ^aw that it 
was indeed Olin’s son before them. 

Now Hilderbrand was so surprised that he knew not 
what to say, and the Red Olaf looked on in silence, 
while the followers laughed at this joke. Only the 


104 


THE SAGA OF 


young White Olaf did not laugh, for he understood 
alone of all there how it came to pass that Jarl had 
said he had slain himself. 

“ Now this is a wondrous thing, Jarl, son of Olin,” 
answered Hilderbrand at last, bending his shaggy 
brows till one could hardly see his bright eyes, and 
pulhng so hard at his beard that it seemed he would 
pull it out. “Now this is a wondrous thing, and I 
cannot read thy riddle. But yesterday thou didst 
stand before me and tear off thine thrall-collar, for 
which thou art nameless man and outlaw, and to-day 
it is on thy neck again ! Yesterday thou didst re- 
nounce my service ; to-day thou art tending thy herds. 
Yesterday thou wast fierce and wild as the berserker ; 
now thou art sane man, and comely to look at. Jarl, 
what means this ? ” and Jarl knew not how to answer. 

Then did White Olaf step forward and bare his head 
before the king and the old Jarl, and he said — 

“ O King, my father, and you too, noble Jarl, may 
a young man speak of this riddle ? ” and they two 
answered — 

“ Speak On, White Olaf, for thou hast wisdom above 
thy years.” 

“ Then,” answered the prince, “ Jarl has said truly, 
for he has slain himself. He has fought and con- 
quered his own spirit and overcome his own will, and 
he has done that which is most difficult and bravest 
of all.” 

“ And what is that. White Olaf ? ” asked Hilder- 
brand, still pulling at his beard. 

“ O, Jarl Hilderbrand, thy neatherd has grappled 
with his pride, and humbled himself even to putting 
on again of the thrall-collar ; and he who wins in such 


JARL THE NEATHERD 105 

a fight as that is greater than all heroes who have their 
deeds sung by the skalds and minstrels. 

Now the followers did not dare to laugh when the 
prince spoke, but many looked very angry, for they 
had thought to have Jarl hunted and slain, and now 
it seemed that he would not be harmed ; so some 
muttered, and said that he was but a nithing after all, 
who feared to face the danger he had brought about, 
and that was why he had taken again the thrall- 
collar. 

And Jarl heard these taunting words, and the blood 
surged to his cheeks ; and his anger rose in his heart 
so that he forgot jarl and king, and he seized his spear 
and turned to do vengeance on those who spoke against 
him. 

But then, oh ! Patience gave his foot such a dreadful 
pinch that he could not walk ; and Jarl let his spear 
fall, and stood silent with folded arms. 

Now at this Hilderbrand frowned, and Red Olaf 
sneered and said that he was indeed only nithing, and 
fit for nothing but herd’s work ; but Jarl only stood 
silent, and White Olaf smiled into his eyes, and their 
hearts spoke, so that the neatherd knew that the prince 
understood. 

But then suddenly Hilderbrand started in his saddle, 
and smote his hands together, and shouted — 

“ Now, by my beard, we are wasting time we should 
be using, and those wild berserkers will be getting safely 
back to their caves with the cattle while we stand talk- 
ing here. Hark, Jarl, son of Olin (since thou hast thy 
name again, I suppose), hast thou seen aught of two 
wild berserkers ? I think no harm of thee that thou 
hast fled when they came, for they are foes only for 


io6 


THE SAGA OF 


the best of heroes to meet ; but in thy hiding, didst 
thou see which way the berserkers went ? ” 

Then did Jarl laugh a great happy laugh, for he 
knew that the Jarl’s words would silence his foes ; and 
he said — 

“ Truly, Jarl Hilderbrand, there is no need to worry 
for the berserkers ; they have been and gone, and thou 
canst not travel the roads they have taken.” 

“ And the cattle ? ” cried Hilderbrand, and Jarl 
answered — 

“Not a horn or hoof is missing from the herds, as 
thou canst see if thou dost look in the pastures the 
other side of this hill.” 

“ But how did the berserkers miss them, since they 
have been here ? ” asked Red Olaf, and it seemed as 
if he did not believe the neatherd’s tale. 

“ Truly, O King, I paid the price the berserkers 
wanted,” said Jarl ; and then White Olaf said — 

“ What are these wounds that bleed on thy arms 
and hands, son of Olin ? ” and the people noticed how 
the neatherd was torn and bitten. 

So Jarl held up his arms and laughed again joyously, 
and said — 

“ O Prince, these are the price I paid the ber- 
serkers.” 

Now at this all the people laughed, but Hilderbrand 
stared and Red Olaf shook his head, for all thought 
that, even if Jarl had dared to meet the berserkers, 
he would surely have been slain. 

But Jarl paid no heed to the laughter, and he went 
on — 

“ O Hilderbrand, I told thee the berserkers had gone 
a road which thou couldst not travel. Lo, I prove my 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


107 


words — here is one of thy foes,” and he went and 
dragged the dead berserker from behind the rocks 
where he lay, while all looked on in surprise. 

“ There were two ! ” said Hilderbrand. “ Son of 
Olin, where is the other berserker ? Never did man 
meet two berserkers, armed with but a boar spear, and 
vanquish them. Yet this one is slain with a spear 
thrust, and the weapon of thine is red with his blood. 
Where is the second of thy foes, Jarl ; and why are 
thine arms thus tom ? ” 

And once again did Jarl laugh ; and oh, how happy 
was his heart as he said — 

“ Hear the answer of the riddle, 0 Hilderbrand, 
lord and jarl. The other of the twain I met, and I 
smote his club from his hand ; but he was minded to 
try a faU with me, and we wrestled.” 

“ Wrestled with a berserker ! ” cried the Red Olaf. 
“ Man, he would rend thee to pieces.” 

“ Thou seest how he tried to do so, king,” replied 
Jarl. “For two hours did we play the man’s game, 
and right stoutly did he fight, yet in the end he cried 
for mercy.” 

“ And thou didst let him go ? ” cried the king ; but 
Jarl shook his head. 

“Nay, Olaf, for my blood was hot. He gave me 
some trouble, and he had bitten and torn like the wild 
thing he was. For his pleasure he came, for mine he 
stayed ; I have thrown him over yonder precipice, 
and thou wilt find him at the bottom with a broken 
neck.” 

At this Red Olaf gave command, and the people went 
to search ; and lo, ’twas even as Jarl had said, for there 
lay the other berserker with his neck broken ; so that 


io8 


THE SAGA OF 


they who had called Jarl nithing had no word to say 
now. But as for Hilderbrand he pulled his beard and 
looked thoughtful, for he desired that Droma should 
wed the noble White Olaf, and if this was noised abroad, 
and she knew that Jarl had so changed, surely all 
her heart would be his again. 

Therefore he knew not what to do, for he thought 
that Jarl should have the thrall-collar taken off and 
be honoured, and yet he feared to do this. But the 
Red Olaf called to Jarl, and said — 

“ Son of Olin, thou art amongst the bravest in Norro- 
way. This morning I came to hunt thee as outlaw 
and nameless one. For thy rebellion thou art forgiven, 
and no man may lay hand upon thee. This I decree as 
king. Now shall the thrall-collar be taken from thy 
neck, and thou shalt be freeman.” 

Then Jarl’s heart gave a great jump of joy ; but 
Duty gave a dreadful pinch, and Jarl wondered why 
the shoe should pinch him. 

He made a step to go forward to the king, but the 
shoe pulled him back, and then Vryda the Wise stood 
there, and she said to Hilderbrand — 

“Jarl Hilderbrand, as thy heart is true heart, let 
thy lips be true. It is not in thine heart to take the 
thrall-collar from Jarl’s neck, according to the wish of 
Olaf thy king ? ” 

Now Hilderbrand’s heart was true, and she had 
bidden his lips be true, so the Jarl answered — 

“ Vryda the Wise — for so I think thou art called — 
thy words are true words : it is not in my heart to set 
my neatherd free.” 

Then did Jarl know why the shoe had pinched him, 
and he said — 


109 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

“ Once have I torn the thrall-collar from my neck ; 
now it shall not come off till it is freely taken off by 
J arl Hilderbrand. I thank thee, 0 King, but neatherd 
will I tarry.” 

“ Then there is no more to be said,” cried the king. 
“ Come, Hilderbrand, there is no nameless one to hunt, 
no cattle to follow, no berserker to slay ; our sport is 
taken from us, let us return,” and all rode off, leaving 
Jarl and Vryda alone. 

“Jarl,” said the wise woman, “dost thou think I 
have been unkind in telling thee to bide a thrall, when 
the king would have made thee freeman ? ” 

“ Not so, Vryda,” was Jarl’s answer, “ for thou art 
wise and good, and what thou dost is well ; therefore 
I trust thee. Besides, were I freest of free, I could 
not do more than this deed. Thou hast shown me that 
freedom is from self, not from others.” 

“ Yet thou shall be free from others. Listen, Jarl ; 
I will that Hilderbrand shall of himself set you free, 
and this shall be soon, if thou dost but listen to the 
advice of thy shoes.” 

“ That will I try to do, Vryda,” he answered ; and 
then Vryda bade him farewell and disappeared. 

So all day in the mountain pastures sat Jarl, and 
all the world seemed bright to him, and the thrall- 
collar seemed to be of thistledown ; and all day in the 
castle did people talk of it, and though many envied, 
none could gainsay the deed. Only some, and Wolfang 
amongst them, tried to make out that the evil trolls 
had aided Jarl and done this for him. 

And Droma of the Golden Hair heard too, for the 
prince, brave as he was, told her all ; and therein did 
Olaf show how noble he was, since he knew that 


no 


THE SAGA OF 


by telling Droma she would have all her love come 
back for Jarl, and there would be no hope for him. 
But he did not hesitate, but told her, and how noble 
and handsome Jarl had looked, and how valiantly he 
had fought and conquered. Only her cheeks paled as 
she heard he was wounded ; and Olaf told her that 
the hurts were but slight, though they would be very 
painful. 

“ There is one thing that would cure them quicker 
than all else, Lady Droma,” he said, and Droma looked 
up and asked in wonder what that might be. 

“ That which he would value more than all, me- 
thinks,” said Olaf, smiling ; “ yet I hardly know how 
to tell thee, Droma of the Golden Hair. Yet see,” and 
he took from his pocket a little soiled strip of linen. 

“This fell from Jarl’s arm — I suppose it had been 
almost rent off in the struggle — and this stain is the 
blood that flowed from his wounds. Droma of the 
Golden Hair, of all my possessions, what dost thou 
most covet now ? ” And Droma answered — 

“ Of all that thou hast, \Vliite Olaf — gold, jewels, 
and lands — I covet most this piece of rag from the arm 
of my Jarl.” 

Then Olaf smiled again, and said — 

“ And for thee I brought it, Droma of the Golden 
Hair, knowing that it would be precious to thee, for 
the sake of thy love. Now, let thine heart answer and 
tell me what Jarl, son of Olin, would most prize in 
this wide world.” 

So Droma sat pondering, and said at last — 

“What a noble heart is thine. White Olaf! Jarl 
would most prize a token and keepsake from me. But 
how shall it be borne to him ? ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


III 


“ I will be thy messenger,” answered Olaf. 

Then Droma put her hands to her head and loosened 
her long wondrous tresses of living gold, and she severed 
one and placed it in the prince’s hands, thinking that 
none saw her do this ; and she said — 

“ Thou shalt be my messenger, White Olaf, and thou 
art ever more my friend for the service thou hast 
given to me, and for thy faith and kindness to Jarl.” 



‘“IIIOU SHALT BE MY MESSENGER, WHITE OLAF.’” 


Now Hilderbrand saw Droma give Olaf the tress, 
and he smiled, for he thought it was for himself, and 
now Droma would have the prince for her lover. 

Red Olaf saw it, and he too thought this; and 
Harold Wolfang also saw it, and he bit his lips in anger, 
and went to seek the warlock, his father, and try to 
get him to aid him in taking Droma away by force. 


112 


THE SAGA OF 


But White Olaf galloped away, and came at last to 
Jarl’s hut, and there Jarl sat in the moonlight, playing 
on his pipe, so that Crawilla and the wicked trolls 
should not come and disturb him or the cattle. 

When he saw Olaf come he laid down his pipes, and 
rose and came out ; and these two, the neatherd and 
the king’s son, shook hands like brothers, and sat down 
side by side. And Jarl said — 

“ Prince Olaf, when last thou didst come here I spoke 
but crossly to thee, but thou hast come again to see 
me.” 

“ Let the past be past, Jarl,” said Olaf. “ I have 
come to see thee for many reasons. First, my heart 
goes out to thee, and we are as brothers, for thou art 
noble and brave, though thou art bom-thrall.” 

“ But a little while back, Olaf ? ” said Jarl, smiling, 
and Olaf answered — 

“ But a little while back, evil filled thy heart, and 
what wonder ? But thou hast conquered the evil, and 
thou hast proved thyself worthy of the love of Droma.” 

Now at this Jarl sighed, and he said — 

“ Ah ! we will not talk of that, Olaf. Did you not 
see that Jarl Hilderbrand was loth to make me free- 
man ? He feared that I might seek the Lady Droma. 
How can I hope for her love ? ” 

Then Olaf told Jarl how the beautiful Droma valued 
the strip of rag from his arm more than she valued 
jewels, gold, or lands ; and he took out the beautiful 
golden tress and gave it to him, and told how it was 
from the Lady Droma, for her Jarl and true knight. 

Then Jarl took that tress and pressed it to his lips, 
and he said — 

“Hear me. Prince Olaf. For. this I am proudest 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


113 

and richest man in Norroway this night ; for this I had 
rather be Jarl, Olin’s son, than Olaf himself. But for 
this and thy faithfulness, I am thy liegeman and servant, 
and my blood is for thee, and my arm is for thee, and 
my blade is for thee, yea for all and against all, as 
long as I live.” 

Then Olaf held out his hands, and he took Jarl’s, 
and he kissed him on each cheek, and he said in his 
turn — 

“ Hear me, Jarl, son of Olin, and thrall of Hilder- 
brand. For the work of this day and night, for thine 
own sake, and for the sake of the Lady Droma, I am 
thy brother and thy friend, for all, through all, and 
against all. My blood is for thee, and my blade is for 
thee, as long as I live.” 

Then Olaf spoke, and told Jarl how he desired to 
press Hilderbrand to free him, and how he wanted him 
to follow him to war and make a great name, but to 
all this Jarl shook his head. 

“Not yet, O Olaf, my friend and brother. Not yet 
must this be, for first it must be that Hilderbrand shall 
willingly take the thrall-collar from off my neck, and 
then will I follow thee and be as thy shadow, and seek 
to gain a name that shall make even Hilderbrand proud 
that Droma of the Golden Hair has given me her love.” 

Then they kissed again, and White Olaf rode back 
to the castle, and Jarl went into his hut, to sit looking 
at the beautiful golden tress from the head of Lady 
Droma. 

Now this is the way in which Olaf the White and 
Jarl, son of Olin, swore friendship ; and this is how Olaf 
brought the love gift of Droma to the neatherd on 
the mountain side. 

# 

H 


THE SAGA OF 


114 


CHAPTER X 

HOW HAROLD WOLFANG WENT TO HIS FATHER 

1 HAVE told you that the father of Harold Wolfang 
was called Red Sweth, and how he was a warlock. 
Now we have been very good and not asked any 
questions thus far — so just before we go on with the 
tale I had better explain that a warlock was a wizard. 

Not a nice, kind, good sort of a magician like 
Merlin — we have heard of him before — but a wicked 
evil old enchanter, who did the most unpleasant 
sort of things, and was never happy except when 
other people were miserable. Well, that is the sort 
of person that Harold Wolfang’s father was. 

Red Sweth dwelt in the midst of a dark and gloomy 
morass, wherein lived all manner of foul things — great 
serpents, and huge kelpies, the like of which no man 
had ever seen before. 

It was a good place to live for some reasons, for it 
was very difficult for any one to reach him if he did 
not wish to see them — there was only one narrow wind- 
ing path through the morass ; and Red Sweth, by 
his charms, could make this disappear, so that those who 
wanted to get to his house would be left floundering 
in the mire, to be choked, or killed by the things that 
lived there. 

And here he had a house built out of the dripping 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


115 

sea-mists and the mountain fogs. A most perplexing 
sort of house to live in, for you never could tell which 
room you were in, since they all kept twisting and 
changing. You might be in the dining-room, we 
will say, and be going to sit down to dinner ; and 
then, the next minute, the dining-room would have 
floated away and you might be in the scullery, sitting 
in the copper. That is the sort of house it was. Or 
you might go to bed and find that the bedroom had 
floated off and left you lying outside the house. 
Or once again, you might just go in for a minute and 
leave your friends outside, and while you were there 
the house would float a mile or so away, and leave 
your friends behind, or make them come puffing along 
after it till they had no breath left. 

As for Red Sweth himself, he was a very unpleasant 
sort of being to look at. He was long, and thin, and 
scraggy — like a neck of cheap Australian mutton — 
and his nose was long and pointed and red — so red that 
it served for a candle ; and when the nights came on, 
if Red Sweth opened his windows a little bit, and 
wagged his nose, it looked like a lantern in the dark, and 
tempted poor travellers to come stumbling into 
the quagmire and be choked. 

And the top of his head was as bald as an egg ; 
but all round, just at the edge, there grew a fringe of 
thin red hair — hair that was as red as his nose. Then 
his eyes were little, like a pig’s, and red all round the 
rims, and one looked to the right, and one looked to the 
left, so that it was a difficult sort of thing to tell where 
Red Sweth was looking at all. And here in this 
morass, and in his white-mist house, dwelt Red Sweth 
the warlock, never coming out unless he wanted to do 


ii6 


THE SAGA OF 


so ; and that was generally when he wanted to make 
mischief and trouble among his neighbours. 

Oh, RedSwethwas happy when the war-time came 
into the land, and the foe marched with steel and flame ; 
for he loved to see the fire rise from the house, and 
to hear the cry of the vanquished and the shriek of the 
women and children. Then he would sit and hug him- 
self and rub his hands and laugh till the tears ran 
down his wrinkled cheeks, and sputtered away on the 
tip of his red nose, like rain drops on a red-hot poker. 

And when the frost came and the wolves and bears 
began to come from the hills, Sweth laughed again, 
for he knew that trouble was about. 

He cast charms on the sea when the fishers went 
out, not that he loved the fishes — for he said he 
could not bear fish — but because he delighted in mak- 
ing others unhappy. And he called up the creeping 
sea-fogs to shut out all things and make the seamen 
lose their way and drift ; and he brought the great 
silent ice-bergs from the north, to shut up the mouths 
of the fiords and keep the ships in, when the Jarls 
desired to go sailing over the seas. 

These and other evil things did the Red Warlock 
do, so ’tis little wonder that no one really loved Red 
Sweth, and that most people hated him. 

Now to Red Sweth came Harold Wolfang, riding, 
riding till he rode as fast as the storm-sisters ride on 
the clouds ; and when he came to the morass he cried 
out a charm which his father had taught to him, and 
the road grew hard and firm. Then when he had 
galloped over, he uttered another charm, and it be- 
came soft and squashy so that none might follow 
him ; and he rode on till he came to the house of white 


JARL THE NEATHERD 117 

mist, and in he went without even stopping to go 
through the door. He just walked right through 
the wall, and there he was inside, and there was Red 
Sweth hard at work. 

Strange work it was too ; making all sorts of charms 
and spells, and packing them away in parcels of thir- 
teen to the dozen to sell to people who wanted some 
extra wicked ones to do evil with. 

Red Sweth looked up as Harold Wolfang came in, 
and he growled — 

“ I wish that you would knock at the door properly, 
Harold Wolfang. It is not respectable to push your 
way in through the wall, and it damages the place so. 
Now, tell me what is the matter, for you look cross 
enough.” 

“ Then I look as I feel,” said Wolfang. “ I love 
Droma of the Golden Hair.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Red Sweth. 

“ I adore her,” said Wolfang. 

“ Pah ! ” said Red Sweth. 

“ I shall never be happy without her,” said Wolfang. 

“ Tut ! ” said the warlock. 

“ She is the only girl I can ever love,” said Wolfang. 

“ Twaddle ! ” said Red Sweth. 

Then Wolfang lost his temper and gave his father 
a terrible thwack, right in the middle of his back. 

“ Don’t say Pooh ! and Pah ! and Tut ! and 
Twaddle ! ” he shouted. “ I want you to help me 
steal Droma the Golden Haired.” 

“ Oh dear ! Oh dear ! Ugh ! Ho ! Ugh ! ” coughed 
and groaned the warlock, the tears running all over 
the place. “ Oh ! You ungrateful, undutiful, wicked, 
bad thing to treat your kind father like that ! Oh ! 


ii8 


THE SAGA OF 


ril make a charm for yon ! One that you won’t like ! 
ril give you the influenza — it is not invented yet, 
but still you shall have it — and the toothache and 
rheumatiz ! Vll let you see ! ” 

“ Don’t talk nonsense,” answered Wolfang. “ That 
was only a friendly pat to let you know I loved you. 

If you want a real hard knock ” 

“ Ugh ! No ! Not on any account,” wheezed the 
warlock. “ No, no. Now let us be serious ! What 
about this Droma ? ” 

“ She is the sweetest, loveliest ” 

“ Yes, yes ; I understand all that. They all are, 
every one of them, no matter what frights other people 
think ’em. You only want to have the attack bad 
enough and you would call one as ugly as Crawilla, 
beautiful. Well, go on.” 

“She shall be mine,” shouted Wolfang, and Red 
Sweth answered — 

“ Well, don’t shout or put yourself in a passion. 
No one says she shan’t.” 

“ They do — she does,” explained Wolfang, and the 
warlock replied — 

“ Pooh ! She don’t count.” 

“ So does her father,” Wolfang went on, and Red 
Sweth muttered — 

“ Hum ! that is worse. He wears boots as big as a 
policeman will do, when he is invented.” 

“ And so does the White Olaf,” Wolfang added ; 
and at this Red Sweth uttered a snarl like a hungry 
wolf quarrelling with his companions over a bone ; and 
every hair of his head and beard bristled with rage. 

“ Wfliat ! ” he cried; “ has \Miite Olaf anything to 
do with it ? ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 119 

“ He has,” answered Wolfang. “ For to-day she 
gave him a tress of her golden hair.” 

“ Oh ! that is very serious,” said Red Sweth; “very 
serious indeed ! Let us work a little spell and see 
what it is all about.” 

So Red Sweth drew out his chaffing dish — and let 
me tell you that though that sounds a comical thing, 
there was no joke about it — and he put all manner 



*‘bent his old nose over the smoke and sniffed.” 


of nasty smelling things into it, and set them all alight ; 
and then bent his old red nose over the smoke and 
sniffed and sniffed, as though he liked it. 

“ Hallo ! ” he said presently, and Wolfang asked — 

“ What is the matter ? ” 

“ Well, bless my nose ! ” went on Red Sweth, “ this 
is peculiar.” 

“ What is ? ” demanded Wolfang impatiently. 

“ I don’t see anything here about \\diite Olaf being 


120 


THE SAGA OF 


her sweetheart,” said the warlock. “ He certainly 
don’t appear to be.” 

“ Then who is ? ” demanded Wolfang, and his 
father replied — 

“ Well ! So far as I can see, it is Jarl the Neatherd ; 
and Olaf is nowhere, and you are farther off still.” 

Now at this, up jumped Wolfang in a rage. 

“I will soon see about that! Jarl! — a common 
thrall ! That girl ought to be ashamed of herself ! 
But why did she give Olaf the White that lock of 
hair ? ” 

“ Don’t be keyurious about the lock,” answered 
Red Sweth ; and the whole morass quaked as it heard 
these dreadful words. 

“ Why did she give him the lock ? ” again said 
Wolfang. “ It seems to me that she is flirting dread- 
fully — that’s what’s the matter, I think. Well now, 
I mean to have her, Jarl or no Jarl, Olaf or no Olaf.” 

“ Oh laff away, if you think it’s a joke,” he added 
as Red Sweth grinned ; but at these words the grin 
instantly died away. 

“ Wolfang,” he said solemnly, “ that is not a joke. 
That’s awful ! Simply dreadful ! Another, and I 
shall die.” 

“ I didn’t mean anything,” said his son, somewhat 
alarmed at what he had done. “ But now you must 
advise me. First, I want to get Olaf away; Jarl I 
have no fear about, for he is away already, away a 
good way, feeding the herds on the mountains. 
Manage some charm to get Red Olaf and his son away 
from Hilderbrand’s castle, and another to call Droma 
out early in the morning while the mists are still 
on the earth. Then I will seize her and carry her off, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 121 

and we will hide her where they cannot get at 
her.” 

“ We might do that,” said Red Sweth thoughtfully. 

“ Then there is another thing I want from you,” 
said Wolfang, and his father asked him what that was. 

“ The magic sword of the fairy Resolution, which 
you stole long ago and which is still hidden in the 
morass ; — I want this, for it is the most powerful 
sword in the world, and with it I shall be the greatest 
warrior.” 

But Red Sweth shook his head as he listened. 

“ Wolfang,” he said more solemnly, “ if you have 
that sword, see that the hand is steady and the heart 
bold, otherwise Resolution will be blunt as a piece 
of rusty iron. Only in the right hand and with the 
right heart, is it powerful.” 

“ That is all right,” answered Wolfang readily. 
“ You don’t think me a coward, ‘do you ? You should 
just hear of all my wonderful deeds.” 

“ Well, you shall have the sword. Now first let me 
see. Here is a magic drink for you that will make you 
stronger than any man,” and he handed his son some- 
thing that looked like ink, and smelt like paraffin and 
castor-oil mixed. 

“ I say,” said Wolfang turning pale. “ You don’t 
mean I have got to drink this, do you ? Can’t you 
make it for external application ? ” 

“ You must drink it every drop, slowly,^ said Red 
Sweth. 

“ Slowly ! Oh, well, I will take one drop every ten 
years. That ought to be slow enough ! ” 

Then Red Sweth fixed a dreadful squinty sort of 
glare upon Wolfang, and said — 


122 


THE SAGA OF 


“ If you do not drink that all now^ slowly, you will 
never win Droma of the Golden Hair.” 

“ Then,” said Wolfang, “ Droma is off ! ” But that 
terrible squinty look was taking effect and he had to 
drink it all, every drop, though he looked very bad as 
it went down. 

“ Oh ! ” he groaned. “ Oh ! give me a piece of 
sugar — that isn’t invented either ; but just invent 
a bit right away, to take the taste out of my mouth. 
Oh ! Droma of the Golden Hair, what I have suffered 
to prove my love for you ! Ugh ! Don’t it taste 
nasty ! ” and with that he fell fast asleep, as the spell 
began to v/ork. 

When he woke up Red Sweth was sitting busy at 
work, and there beside him lay a wonderful sword, with 
such a beautiful blade that he gave a cry of joy and 
stretched out his hand to seize it. 

“ Beware what you do,” cried a stern voice, and a 
mighty gnome stood between him and the weapon. 

“ This is the sword of the fairy Resolution, stolen 
from him by the warlock, thy father. If thou dost 
dare to take it, take it ; but if thou dost not deserve it, 
then thou shalt not keep it long, but a worthier and 
mightier shall have it.” 

“ I will take the sword, and I will keep the sword,” 
answered Harold Wolfang, and the gnome said — 

“ Take it then and keep it ; for he who takes it from 
thee will at last slay thee,” and with this he disap- 
peared. 

Now all this time Red Sweth had not spoken, but 
when the gnome vanished he rose and came to his 
son and said — 

“ Now Wolfang, how do 5"ou feel ? ” 


133 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

“ Stronger than the strongest,” was the answer. 
“ More cruel than the cruelest, more wicked than the 
wickedest, more fierce than the fiercest ; ” and Red 
Sweth answered and said — 

“ The charm has indeed worked well. Now go 
back and say nothing, and boast not, and be careful of 
the wine horn, for therein lies thy danger most.” 

But Harold Wolfang laughed and cried — 

“ Wine horn or brown ale, I fear not that foe ! Tell 
me what next, father.” 

“ I will work a charm to summon the Olafs away 
for the time, so that they shall not know. I will work 
a spell to keep Hilderbrand asleep, and to bring Droma 
of the Golden Hair out while the mists still lie. The 
rest you must do ; and you must bring her here, and 
then we will keep her from father, from lover, and from 
king, be their power what it may.” 

“ Fear not that I will play my part,” answered 
Wolfang. “Now I will go, and we will see who can 
conquer soonest, the warlock’s son, or the born-thrall.” 

Now this is how Harold Wolfang came to the war- 
lock, his father, and how he drank the strength-drink, 
and took the gnome-sword away with him. 


124 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XI 

WHY RED SWETH’S CHARM WAS SPOILT 

N OW back to the castle of Jarl Hilder brand rode 
Harold Wolfang, the son of Red Sweth, and a 
right gallant figure did he seem on his great war-horse. 
His helmet gleamed with golden tracings, and his 
beard and hair swept behind him, as the clouds sweep 
behind the storm-sisters when they braid their locks ; 
and at his saddle-bow hung his great war-axe which he 
used in battle time, and from his belt hung the sword 
Resolution. 

Now the axe was a magic weapon as was the sword. 
It had belonged to a giant called Effort, who had 
been cheated out of it by the warlock long ago, before 
this story began. 

And it chanced that when Harold Wolfang entered 
the courtyard of the castle, that the freemen were 
there, boxing and wrestling ; and Wolfang thought, 
“Now my father has made me stronger than the 
strongest here, and I will see who can overthrow me.” 
So he sprang from his horse, and he cried — 

“ Greeting, Jarl Hilderbrand ; I am back in time to 
see the sport and to share in it, it seems. I have 
ridden far to-day, yet I would like to try a fall.” 

This made some there stare, for before this Wolfang 
had not been too ready to fight any but the weaklings. 


125 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

But Hilderbrand laughed and bade the men take 
Wolfang’s steed to the stables, while he got ready for 
the trial. 

“ He is a boaster and ni thing,” he whispered to 
King Olaf. “ ’Twill be sport.” But it was not the 
sport that Hilderbrand had expected to see ; for 
though stalwart lads and brave tried to throw Wolfang 
or overcome him in boxing, none were able to do so ; 
and, moreover, Wolfang was cruel and spiteful, and 
played roughly on purpose to hurt his foes ; so that 
some were injured, and men began to stare and mutter, 
for they could not understand this. 

“ Nithing, didst thou call him, Jarl,” said Red Olaf 
to Hilderbrand. “ Thou hadst better have called him 
berserker, for he seems to have the strength of one.” 

“ Now will any other try a fall with me ? ” cried the 
victor at last ; and lo ! up rose the White Olaf and 
answered, and said — 

“ I will try a fall with thee, Harold Wolfang.” 

But to this Wolfang replied — 

“Not so. Prince Olaf, for thou art the king’s son 
and my prince, and it would go hard with me did I 
overcome thee.” 

“ By my throne and my sword,’’ said Red Olaf, 
rising, “not a hair of thy head shall be injured, 
Harold Wolfang, even if thou dost overcome White 
Olaf. If he is king’s son, he is man also, and man is 
better than prince. ’Tis my wish that you take his 
challenge.” 

So the White Olaf threw off his tunic, and stood 
all bare to the waist and looking like some beautiful 
marble statue before the great Wolfang, who was as 
a giant to him ; and then these two fell to wrestling, and 


126 


THE SAGA OF 


all men looked on in wonder and awe, for never had 
been such a match in the kingdom. But though they 
strove long, and though White Olaf did bravely, yet 
he was not able to overcome the strength which Red 
Sweth had given to his son ; and moreover Wolfang did 
not wrestle fair, but strove to crush Olaf’s feet, so as 
to lame him ; and at last he managed to get a mighty 
grip of the prince and hurl him down, so that he 
could wrestle no more, and Wolfang had won the 
match. 

Now at this did Red Olaf look dark, and Hilderbrand 
scowled and pulled his beard, and all men were silent, 
for they loved Olaf and hated Wolfang — at least, all 
the true men did, though the nithings and traitors 
rejoiced. But Prince Olaf said — 

“ Thou hast w'on the match, Wolfang, though me- 
thinks thou hast wrestled somewhat unfairly. Still 
he is no man who cannot take defeat and feel respect 
for the winner, so here is my hand, and here are golden 
bracelets for thee as my vanquished gift, and thou 
must sit by my right hand at the feast to-night as my 
friend and brother.” 

So did the prince speak, and he drove the clouds 
away from the brows of all ; and then all men went 
in and the feast began, and Gunhilda and Droma sat 
on the dais, and Gunhilda said to Hilderbrand — 

“ Who is the victor that must be honoured this 
day, O husband ? ” 

Then Hilderbrand answered and said — 

“ Harold Wolfang has been victor to-day, and he 
must be honoured.” 

So Gunhilda gave Droma the golden cup of wine, 
and she rose and bore it to Wolfang, and said — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


127 

“ Wes hael to Wolfang the victor,” and she touched 
the wine with her lips. 

And Wolfang took the cup and answered — 

“ Drink H$1 to Droma the beautiful,” and he 
looked into her eyes, but there was no smile of wel- 
come or praise there ; and if ever eyes spoke to eyes, 





DROMA . . . SANG THE PRAISES OF JARL THE NEATHERD.” 


then the eyes of Droma said to him, “ Traitor and 
Nithing.” 

Then the feast went on, and the skalds began to sing 
the deeds of Harold Wolfang, the victor of the day. 

And they sang of Droma the Fair, and of brave Jarl 
Hilderbrand, and of Red Olaf and White Olaf his son ; 
but none sang a word about the man who had met 


128 


THE SAGA OF 


and slain two berserkers, till Prince Olaf turned to 
them and gave them a golden bracelet, and said — 

“ Is there no song of praise for the bravest man in 
Norroway — for the born-thrall who slew the ber- 
serkers ? ” But never a word did the minstrels say in 
answer. 

Then did Droma of the Golden Hair rise and take 
her harp ; and she sat and sang the praises of Jarl the 
Neatherd, though some looked askance, and some 
winked, and smiled, and whispered. 

But not a bit did Droma care, nor did the colour 
increase in her cheek ; and she sang a fair song and 
did not boast, but only told of the deeds which Jarl 
had done ; so that even Hilderbrand, her father, and 
Red Olaf, though they liked not the singing, had to 
say — 

“ Tis a fair song and a true song ; and he of whom 
she sings deserves the praise and the honour which is 
done to him by Droma, the Jarl’s daughter.” 

But then did Harold Wolfang laugh and say — 

“ ’Twas by magic and cunning he overcame. I 
would the chance were mine, O Lady Droma ! 
Gladly would I meet twice two berserkers, did I have 
the honour that you have done to this thrall this 
night.” But Hilderband answered — 

“ Honour for those who honour have earned, 
Wolfang. Earn thy praise, and it shall not be lack- 
ing.” 

Then Wolfang drank all the wine in the golden cup 
and he forgot his father’s counsel, and he boasted and 
boasted and drank more and more wine and more 
brown ale, and those around him did the same till 
words ran high, so that Gunhilda and Droma and all 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


129 

the maidens went from the hall, and the men were left 
alone. 

And then there came a messenger from Olaf’s court 
to the king, saying that he was needed to settle a 
great quarrel between two jarls, else war might break 
out in the land. 

Now Red Olaf, fierce as he was, was a wise and 
good king ; so when these tidings came he bade Hilder- 
brand farewell and drained one last cup, and ordered 
his men to make ready for the journey. 

Then came Gunhilda and Droma to bid them fare- 
well, and Prince Olaf kissed Droma’s hand and 
whispered that “ she must be of good cheer, and that 
presently all would be well for her and for Jarl, his 
brother and friend ; ” and so the king and prince rode 
off, and Harold Wolfang chuckled, for he knew that 
this was brought about by the cunning of his father, 
the warlock. 

But alas ! he was fast forgetting all the advice he 
had received, and he drained many a deep drinking 
horn, and boasted and was noisy, and at last he fell 
from his seat and the men carried him away and put 
him to bed, and Jarl Hilderbrand laughed and said — 

“ Let that teach a lesson to you, O my sons. Here 
is Harold Wolfang, who has suddenly become a strong 
and mighty man, who has conquered all who stood 
before him this day, yet he is conquered by a very 
little thing — by a wine horn — and now he is weak and 
helpless.” 

So spoke the Jarl ; for though in those old days 
they drank much strong ale and wine, yet Hilderbrand 
loved not to see men become as brutes because they 
loved the drinking horn so much. 


1 


130 


THE SAGA OF 


Then soon after this the castle doors were shut and 
the watch was set, and all men, save the sentinels, were 
fast asleep. 

And in his bed where they had laid him Harold. 
Wolfang snored and snored till the windows shook, and 
he quite forgot about waking up early in the morning 
before the white mists were off the ground. 

Red Sweth had kept his word and made his charm, 
and Hilderbrand did not wake up when the warder 
blew his horn ; but Droma was up and out as soon 
as the castle doors were open, for the spell of the war- 
lock led her feet and she had to go. 

But still Wolfang snored away in bed and pre- 
sently Hilderbrand woke, and he got up and went 
out, sorely angered with himself that he had slept so 
long. 

And then at last, when every one else had been up a 
good time, Wolfang woke with a start, and there 
was the sun shining into his room, and never a bit of 
white mist left ; and Droma was singing in the castle 
garden, and he knew that the wine cup had been 
stronger than his strength, and that all the spell 
which had been made by Red Sweth, his father, had 
been in vain. So he got up and put on his armour 
and girded his sword at his thigh, and springing on his 
war horse he rode off in a dreadful temper, not know^- 
ing or caring whither he went, and only seeking to 
find some one upon whom he could vent his anger. 

Well, he rode a long way, and then he thought that 
he had better go back and see if there would be any 
chance of getting Droma out of the castle upon some 
pretext, when no one w'ould be looking, and managing 
to run off with her. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


131 

“ Now if I tell her that Jarl the Neatherd is waiting 
to see her, perhaps’ she will come,” he thouglit ; “ that 
will be a very good way to do it, for she cannot pos- 
sibly tell any one where she is going, and will steal 
away secretly and then I can seize her.” 

So back he rode ; and when he reached the castle he 
found Droma still in the garden, and he went up to 
her and whispered that Jarl, the son of Olin, was 
sore hurt in a struggle with a bear, and that he had 
managed to come as far as a lonely glen nigh the 
forest, and there he was waiting to kiss her and say 
good-bye before he died, and his spirit went to the 
stormland. 

Now Droma knew not what to do at first, for she 
disbelieved the story of Wolfang and knew that he 
was evil — yet still it might be true, and she asked did 
Jarl send any token. 

“ Nay,” said Wolfang cunningly. “ He had but 
one, far too precious for him to part with, but he 
showed it to me ; and lo ! ’twas a braid of golden hair, 
and whose hair it was, you alone can tell, Droma.” 

Now of course that was a wicked story, but Wolfang 
never troubled about that, and when Droma heard it 
she thought that the tale must be true, for how else 
should Harold Wolfang know of the tress of her 
hair ? 

So with her heart full of grief she ran to the place 
where Wolfang had told her that Jarl was waiting for 
her, and the warlock’s son followed on his horse, his 
sword by his side, his axe at his saddle bow, and 
the sun shining on his armour. 

So they reached the place, but there was no sign of 
Jarl ; and Droma said — 


132 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Oh, Harold Wolfang, where is the son of Olin ? ” 

“ He must have gone, or have fallen somewhere and 
died,” answered the false Wolfang. “ I will search 
for him.” 

Then he got from his horse and pretended to search, 
and presently he came close to Droma of the Golden 
Hair and seized her in his arms. 

“ We will look for the thrall no longer, beautiful 
Droma,” he laughed. “ He is not here, and ’tis good 
for him that he is not ; for if he were I would slay 
him.” 

“ What do you mean, Harold Wolfang ? ” cried 
Droma in alarm, and the warlock’s son laughed again, 
for still the wine was in his head. 

“ I mean, beautiful Droma, that I love you and am 
going to carry you off, as all the warriors of old carried 
off their brides. This is a lonely spot and there is 
no one to aid you or hear your cries, so you had best 
be quiet and obedient or I shall use more force than 
kindness with you.” 

But Droma had her father’s spirit, and she cried 
for aid and struggled ; and Wolfang laughed, for he 
had no fear that people would hear, and he stooped 
and pressed a kiss upon her lips and said — 

“ Thus will I stop your cries, Droma.” 

But next minute he wished he had not done that, 
for Droma had given him such a box on the ear that 
his cheek smarted, and there was a red imprint of her 
palm to show where the blow had fallen. 

Now this roused all Wolfang’s anger and he seized 
her roughly while she cried in her despair, hardly know- 
ing what she said. 

“ Jarl ! Jarl ! If you love me come and save me.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


133 


“ Call if you will,” laughed Wolfang, seeking to 
drag her to his horse. “ Jarl cannot hear, and if he 
could he would not dare come and rescue you from a 
mighty warrior like me.” 

“Would he not ?” shouted an angry voice in his ear; 
and then Harold Wolfang went spinning to the earth, 
whilst before him stood Jarl the Neatherd, one arm 
round the sobbing Droma’s waist, one hand grasping 
his stout boar spear, with the handle of which he had 
knocked Wolfang down. 

Now this is how the charm of Red Sweth was spoiled, 
and how the neatherd came to the rescue of Droma of 
the Golden Hair. 


134 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XII 


OF THE WRESTLING OF JARL AND WOLFANG 
OW perhaps you will wonder just how Jarl the 



IN Neatherd managed to come to the aid of beau- 
tiful Droma, and what he was doing upon this side of 
the mountain, far from his pastures and his cattle. 

Well, it was his shoes Duty and Patience that brought 
him, though he little guessed for what they were leading 
him. 

Late the evening before, one silly little calf had 
wandered away, and search where he might Jarl could 
not find it. 

At first he said that it did not matter about one calf, 
but Duty hurt his foot, and he knew that Vryda’s 
shoes meant him to go and search. 

But he did not know that Vryda herself had driven 
the calf away, on purpose that he should be ready to 
follow, and be there to help Droma. 

So the first thing, when the sun rose and the white 
mists still lay on the mountain, Jarl rose and began 
his search ; and he went to Olin, his father, and asked 
him to go and tend the cattle, while he looked for the 
calf. 

“ Shall I seek the calf, my son ? ” asked Olin ; but 
Jarl answered no, for it was his fault that the calf 
was strayed, and therefore he himself would find it. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


135 


So he walked mile after mile, and sometimes he thought 
it was not much good going on ; but the Patience 
began to pinch his foot, and he knew that Vryda 
wanted him to keep looking. 

And at last he got right down to this lonely glen, for 
he could see the marks of the calf’s feet, and then at 
last, just as he was beginning to wonder wherever the 
little creature could have got to, he heard the voice of 
his beloved Droma calling to him for help. 

Forward he sprang ; he bounded over hedges and 
ditches, and at last he caught sight of Droma, just as 
Wolfang was seeking to drag her on to his horse ; and 
he gave the warlock’s son such a buffet that Wolfang 
lay looking half silly for some moments. 

And perhaps that was well for him, for if he had got 
up at once I think that Jarl would have killed him as 
he did the berserker, so angry was he that Droma 
should have been thus treated. 

But how sweet it was to have her in his arms ; and 
how lovely she looked as she smiled up at him and 
called him her Jarl, though her eyes were full of tears. 

Then Harold Wolfang started to his feet and drew 
his great sword, and would have attacked Jarl, but 
that a deep voice bade him hold ; and there, on his 
war-horse, with his men at his back, sat Jarl Hilder- 
brand, his face black with anger and his great iron 
mace in his hand. 

“ Hold,” cried Hilderbrand, “ what means this ? 
And you, Jarl, neatherd, how dare you kiss the Lady 
Droma, your Jarl’s daughter ? Twice have you been 
warned, now you shall die.” 

But Jarl laughed and answered — 

“ Oh, Jarl and lord, when I rescued Droma of the 


136 


THE SAGA OF 


Golden Hair from the wolf you minded not. To-day 
I have rescued her from something worse — from a 
coward and traitor.” 

Then Hilderbrand bent his brows and pulled his 
beard, and he looked at Harold Wolfang and said — 

“ Hearest thou this, son of Red Sweth — ^what hast 
thou to say ? ” and Wolfang replied haughtily — 

“ This have I to say, Hilderbrand. I talk not with 
low thralls. But I will beat this fellow to a jelly with 
his own boar spear.” 

Then Jarl laughed again and cried — 

“ Well spoken, Harold Wolfang — I bid thee welcome 
to the trial.” 

But Hilderbrand held up his hand, and said — 

“ Time enough to talk like that when other things 
are settled. You, Wolfang, what have you to say to 
the charge of my neatherd, that he rescued the Lady 
Droma from thee ? ” 

“ Now it grieves me to have to speak thus, Jarl 
Hilderbrand,” said Wolfang, “ but this I have to say — 
the Lady Droma came hither to meet with Jarl thy 
thrall.” 

“It is false,” cried Jarl; but Droma said, “It is 
true.” 

“ How ! false ! true ! ” cried Hilderbrand. “ These 
two cannot be together,” and Jarl knew not how to 
answer, for he could not understand. 

Hilderbrand saw his trouble and thought he spake a 
lie ; and Wolfang smiled and went on — 

“ I found Droma in the arms of this base thrall, and 
so angry was I that I was going to slay him when my 
foot slipped and I fell.” 

Now when he had done speaking, Droma of the 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


137 


Golden Hair stepped to her father’s side, and she said — 

“ My father, wilt thou ask this nithing how I came 
to be here ? ” 

So Hilderbrand asked Wolfang, and Wolfang 
answered that he knew not, unless Jarl had sent her 
a message. 

“ Now wilt thou ask Jarl, the son of Olin, how he 
chances to be here ? ” she asked ; and Jarl told how 
he had followed the calf and how his father watched 
the herds, and he pointed to the marks of the calf’s 
feet to prove his tale true. 

“ So thou didst not know thou wouldst see my 
daughter ? ” said Hilderbrand ; and Jarl answered that 
he did not know he should see her. 

“Now I will tell thee, father, how I came here to 
see Jarl,” said Droma ; and she told her tale ; and at 
this Wolfang cried out that it was but a joke of his, 
and that he meant no mischief. 

Then said Droma — 

“ If Wolfang’s tale is true, wilt thou ask him what 
that red mark is on his cheek, and how it comes to 
fit the shape of my hand, oh, my father ?” and to this 
Harold Wolfang could give no answer. 

Then did Jarl Hilderbrand burst into a terrible 
rage, and he shook his great mace at Wolfang and 
called him traitor and nithing, and bade him make 
ready for the fight. 

“ It will be shame to me,” he said, “ for thou hast 
been my guest, yet fight thee I will, and thou shalt 
die. As for thee, Jarl, son of Olin, I did thee wrong 
and will reward thee,” and at this Jarl cried — 

“ A boon then, Jarl Hilderbrand ; a mighty boon 
for the love thou dost bear to Droma of the Golden 
Hair.” 


138 


THE SAGA OF 


“ What is thy boon for which thou didst ask, son 
of Olin ? ” said the Jarl; and the answer was — 

“ Let me fight with this nithing in thy place, O 
Jarl. Let him have his armour and that great sword 
of his, and I will have no armour and but my boar 
spear ; and if he defeat me then let him have me for 
his slave if he will, and if I overcome him then his life 
shall be mine.” 

“ I will not fight with a thrall,” said Wolfang, 
though but a little before he had boasted how he 
would have slain Jarl. 

But Hilderbrand pulled at his beard and looked 
thoughtful, and he said to himself — 

“ If the runes are written that it shall be, then it 
shall be ! ” Then he said aloud — 

“ Harold Wolfang, it shall be as my thrall says. 
Thou shalt fight with him, for thou hast ever hated 
him and sought to do him ill ; moreover thou didst 
say but now that thou wouldst pound him to a jelly 
with his own boar spear. Now thou shalt fight, and 
if thou dost conquer and dost spare his life he is thy 
slave, but if he does conquer, thy life is his and he 
shall slay thee.” 

“ I will not do this,” cried Wolfang again, and Jarl 
laughed. 

“ See here, Harold Wolfang,” he said, “ I will give 
thee even a better bargain. I will give thee thy life, after 
I have thrashed thee with my spear as thou saidst 
thou would thrash me ; and I will be content with 
that great sword of thine, for ’tis more value than thy 
life, and is a man’s weapon, too good for a nithing to 
wear.” 

“ If thou dost not fight him after that, thou art no 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


139 


man, Wolfang,” cried the freemen of Hilderbrand ; 
and so angry were they at the way he had sought to 
steal Droma away that they would, any one of them, 
have tried to kill him, had their Jarl ordered it. 

Then Wolfang thought that he had his armour and 
his magic sword and his great strength, and that he 
was sure to vanquish Jarl, who had only a boar spear 
and no armour ; so he said that if Jarl Hilderbrand 
wished him to disgrace himself by fighting a thrall, he 
must do it. 

“ Thou dost cast shame on me, thy guest,” he said. 
“ Why, if I love Droma enough to seek to steal her, 
there is no wrong in that. ’Tis the custom of our land, 
as thou dost know, Hilderbrand.” 

“Not for that do I desire thee to fight my thrall,” 
answered Hilderbrand sternly, “ but for the evil lies 
thou hast spoken, and the shame ^^ou sought to bring 
to Droma. Nay, Wolfang, thou art not worthy even 
to fight a thrall, for thy tongue is a false one, and thy 
heart is false too.” 

Then he turned to Jarl and said — 

“Jarl, son of Olin, because this man is not worthy 
to fight a freeman, as a thrall must thou meet him ; 
but this is my word, vanquish him and beat him as 
thou hast said, and for ever the thrall-collar shall be 
taken off thy neck and thou shalt be freeman and 
honourable in my castle and hall, in peace-time and 
war-time, conqueror or defeated.” 

Then Jarl, the son of Olin, cried — 

“ Thus will I do or die, O Hilderbrand,” and then 
all went back to the castle, where the combat was to 
take place in the great courtyard. 

And here all men gathered in a great ring, and 


140 


THE SAGA OF 


Hilderbrand bade Gunhilda, his wife, to sit by his one 
side and Droma,his daughter, to sit by his other ; and 
he proclaimed the reason of this fight, and how if 
Wolfang was victor, the life and person of Jarl, Olin’s 
son, should be his ; and how if Jarl won, then he was 
to beat Wolfang and take his great sword and be 
freeman and honourable. 

And they had sent for Olin and Elsper that they 
might watch their son do his battle ; and lo ! when all 
was ready, who should ride in but King Olaf and his 
son ; and the Jarl explained to them how Wolfang 
had been traitor and told lies, and how the neatherd was 
to fight him ; and thereat Red Olaf laughed and cried — 
“ We shall see some good sport now, for both are 
men of promise and well matched ! ” 

But the White Olaf looked grave ; for in sooth ’twas 
a hard thing for a man armed only with a rude spear, 
and with but a tunic like a berserker, to fight one 
who wore shirt of mail and helmet of brass, and who 
carried a mighty sword. 

But Jarl smiled and looked at Droma, and he showed 
the prince the tress of yellow hair which he carried 
round his neck, and he said — 

“ Fear not, Olaf, friend and brother. This tress 
will be better armour than chain mail or iron ; and I 
will conquer this boaster, as thou shalt see.” 

Now all was ready, and Wolfang strode into the 
ring where the fight was to be, the beautiful sword in 
his hand, its blade gleaming blue and bright in the 
sunlight ; while Jarl lightly sprang forward, his 
boar spear in his hand, and bending his body slightly 
he faced his foe, the keen point ever held forward, and 
his bright eyes fixed on his enemy’s face. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


141 

Often had he faced an angry old boar like this, when 
he was but a boy ; when the monster had walked 
round him, seeking to rush in and rend him with its 
tusks, yet ever finding that gleaming point just in front 
of him. 

So it was now. Wolfang did not like the look of 
that spear, for he remembered it had overcome a 
berserker’s rage, and he wanted a chance to dodge in 
past its point and cut Jarl down before he could defend 
himself. 

Loud laughed the Vikings and warriors as they 
watched. 

“Wolfang does not like his dinner,” they cried. 
“ He boasted much, he does little.” 

“ Run in and make an end of the thrall, Wolfang,” 
they said mockingly. “ Come, show him how to play 
the man’s game.” 

“ Come, Wolfang,” laughed Jarl, “ thou wilt get 
tired of swinging that big sword of thine, and ’tis time 
I got back to my oxen.” 

Then, mad with rage, Wolfang rushed up, smiting 
a mighty blow at the spear, as if he would cut the head 
of the weapon from the stick. 

Jarl sprang back — he did not want to stab his foe 
if he could help it, for he had promised him his life, 
but he swung the spear like a club to avoid the blow. 

Yet he was not quick enough, and the sword struck 
his weapon so that all there thought it would be cut in 
twain, but to their surprise the blade did not even 
mark the wood, for the great sword was in the hand 
that was false, and was with one whose heart was false, 
and its blade was but like old iron, just as the gnome 
had warned him it would be. 


142 


THE SAGA OF 


Then Jarl threw his spear aside, without even trying 
to use it, and he caught Harold Wolfang by the wrist. 

“ Thy sword is as false as thou art, Wolfang,” he 
said. “ I need no good spear against such a weapon,” 
and with that he twisted it from Wolfang’s hands 
and flung it to the earth. 

“ Now, Harold Wolfang,” he said, “ I hear thou 
didst beat all men here wrestling yesterday, yea even 
to Prince Olaf. Now see if thou canst beat me. My 
life is thine if thou canst, and thy sword is mine if 
thou canst not.” 

At this was Wolfang rejoiced, for he knew of his great 
strength which had been given him by the warlock ; 
and he gave a great shout and seized Jarl, seeking to 
hurl him senseless to the ground. 

But Jarl had great strength too, though he was not 
so big as Wolfang ; and he shifted his feet, for he saw 
his foe was trying to trample on them, and he laughed 
again as he felt the pressure of the other’s arms. 

“ Thou art not so strong as was the berserker, 
Wolfang,” he said. “ Take thy time, for there is no 
hurry, unless thou art eager for thy beating.” 

Then again did Wolfang try, and he strained so hard 
that his great muscles stood up like cords on his arms ; 
yet still Jarl laughed ; and then he said — 

“ And now ’tis my turn to try, son of Sweth. Get 
ready for thy beating.” 

So he in turn put out his strength, and he lifted 
the great Wolfang off his feet and swung him high in 
the air, and then sent him crashing to the earth ; and 
before he could rise Jarl had sprung forward and, 
grasping his spear, he gave him such a dreadful beating 
that he twisted and roared and cried for mercy, while 


JARL THE NEATHERD 143 

everyone shouted and laughed till the tears fell down 
their cheeks. 

Then, when Jarl was out of breath, they took 
Wolfang and tied him on his horse, so that his face 
was towards the tail, and they sent him galloping 
away, and written on a card round his neck they 
said that this was Harold Wolfang who was ni thing 
and falseman and who had been beaten by a born- 
thrall till he roared for mercy. 

As for Jarl, Hilderbrand ordered that they should 
take the iron thrall-collar from off his neck, and call 
him freeman ; and he picked up the great sword and 
handed it to the son of Olin ; and then, lo ! the blade 
was sharp and beautiful as any in the land, so that 
they knew it must indeed have been a fairy sword 
that was blunted because it had been held in the 
hand of a nithing. Now this is how Jarl wrestled 
with Horold Wolfang, and how he won the great 
sword for his own. 


144 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XIII 

HOW CRAWILLA AND RED SWETH PLOTTED EVIL 
AGAINST JARL 

N OW away and away galloped the horse, Harold 
Wolfang tied on its back, and with the card 
round his neck ; and all men as they looked and 
read laughed and made merry, and they said — 

“ Look at the mighty warrior who is tied on his 
horse with his face to its tail ! This is the valiant 
Wolfang, who has been beaten by a thrall till he 
cried for mercy.” 

And when Harold Wolfang heard their mocking, 
his heart was filled with rage, and he wished that he 
were berserker or werewolf that he might turn and 
rend them. 

And at last in his mighty strength he burst the cords 
which bound him, and sprang from the horse and turned 
and smote it with his fist, so that it sank dying to the 
earth ; and he cried — 

“ That is for taking me to my shame, O horse.” 
Then the horse answered — 

“ Oh ! master, I have not taken thee to thy shame ; 
I have but borne thee in thy shame, and it was thine 
all the time. Thou hast slain me, and one day thou 
shalt weep that I am not by to carry thee to safety, 
when thou dost flee from the face of Jarl,the son of 
Olin ; for he has taken the fairy sword from thee, and 
surely he will slay thee with it one day.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


145 


But Harold Wolfang did not stay to hear more, 
and the horse died ; and the wolves came and found 
its body and picked its bones, and they laughed and 
said one to the other — 

“ Oh ! brothers, Harold Wolfang has given us our 
dinner and we have eaten the horse, and one day Jarl, 
the son of Olin, will give us our dinner and we will eat 
Harold Wolfang,” though how the wolves knew that 
is more than I can say. 

Well, Wolfang rushed on in his rage, and he thought 
he would go and scold his father, the warlock, because 
all the charms had failed ; though, of course, that was 
his own fault, for if he had remembered what Red 
Sweth had said and not let the little wine horn take 
away his strength it might have been different, and 
he might have succeeded in stealing Droma, and then 
this story would not have been told. 

But that is just the way with people. They will 
not listen to good advice, and when they get into trouble 
they want to blame others for their own faults. 

But we must go on, and see what happened to the 
warlock’s son. 

He ran on so blind with his anger that he never 
stopped to look where he was going ; and at last he 
came to the great swamp which I have told you was 
all around Red Sweth’s home, and he did not even 
remember to utter the magic spell which should make 
the pathway hard and firm for him to go over. So 
when he put his foot where the path should have been 
there was nothing but soft squashy mud, and he fell 
in, head over heels, and was very nearly choked. 

Ugh ! it was dreadful — the mud was in his eyes, 
and in his ears, and up his nose, and his mouth was 
full of it. K 


146 


THE SAGA OF 


He gulped and gasped and struggled, but the more 
he did this the deeper he sank. 

And the snakes and kelpies came rushing up, thinking 
that it was some traveller who had fallen in, and they 
began to scratch him and to nip little pieces out of 
him in a most dreadful way before they discovered, 
by the very nasty taste, that he was the wicked war- 
lock’s son. 

Then they scurried away in dreadful fear, for they 
thought that perhaps Red Sweth would object to them 
nibbling pieces out of Harold Wolfang, and order 
them all to be skinned alive ; and Wolfang, coughing 
and spluttering, at last managed to reach the other 
side and scramble out, all covered in black mud, and 
looking the most dreadful object that ever you saw. 

Then he rushed up to the white-mist house and right 
in through the wall, and he did not look where he was 
going, so he upset Red Sweth, who was bending over 
a great caldron of boiling charms, and all the hot 
stuff came pouring over both of them as they rolled on 
the floor. 

Oh, goodness gracious me ! and what a dreadful 
screeching and yelling they both made ; for those 
charms were very hot indeed. 

You know it is bad enough to be scalded with water, 
but that is nothing like scalding channs ; why, they 
are as much hotter than boiling water, as that is hotter 
than halfpenny ices. 

Besides, a whole lot of the stuff had gone down 
their throats, and it made them feel very bad indeed. 

So there they sat on the floor, opposite to each other, 
and very cross they both seemed. 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! ” roared Wolfang, looking at a great 


147 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

blister on his hand. “ Oh ! you wicked old warlock, 
to go placing your silly caldrons where people can fall 
into them ! Oh ! I have a great mind to cut your ugly 
old head off, though you are my father. I would, if I 
did not want you to help me some more. Oh ! oh ! 

“ Oo ! 00 ! 00 ! ! ” wailed the warlock. “ Oh ! you 
great silly thing to come blundering like that ! How 
many times have I told you to go round to the front 
door properly ! Oh I my beautiful red nose is scalded ! 
Oh ! my bald head has a blister right on top ! Oh ! 
and I do feel so queer inside ! I have swallowed a lot 
of boiling charm, and it was not quite done, and I think 
it will poison me.” 

“ Don’t make that noise — I am hurt most,” groaned 
Wolfang, holding his sides and rolling his eyes, as the 
charm inside began to burn him. “ Ooo ! Ooo ! ! I 
am going to die ! Get something to cure me, quick ! ’* 

“ m get something to cure you ! ” cried the warlock 
in a rage, and he started up and, seizing the caldron, 
gave his son a most terrific one with it right on the top 
of his pate. Well, there, if Wolfang’s head had not 
been so hard it would have cracked his pate ; as it was, 
it cracked the caldron. 

“ Now look what you have done ! ” shouted Red 
Sweth. “ There is my new caldron spoilt, and all 
through you ! I never saw such a dreadfully provoking 
boy in all my life, and ” 

Red Sweth paused and screwed up his face, and 
sniffed. 

“ Dear me ! ” he said, “ what a very unpleasant 
smell ! It isn’t the charms — they don’t smell like 
that. I wonder if there is a dead rat under the boards. 
I — Oo ! Oo ! ! Keep away from me ! Just look at 


THE SAGA OF 


148 

your clothes and hands ! Just look at your boots ! 
Where have you been ? Oh ! look at the muddy marks 
you are making all over the floor ! Keep away from 
me ! ! ” 

You see, Wolfang was going to come near him, and 
he was all smothered with the mud from the swamp ; 
and that, mixed with hot charms, did smell something 
dreadful. Red Sweth was used to nasty smells — you 
can’t help them when you are a wizard, and get making 
spells and things — ^but he couldn’t stand hot charms 
and swamp mud, and he had to open all the windows 
to let in the fresh air ; and then he uttered a charm 
and the house floated over a deep pool of ice-cold 
water, and then he let the floor fall out and splash, 
splosh, souse into the water went Harold Wolfang, 
while his father seized a great stiff broom which he 
used for sweeping up the back yard, and began scrub- 
bing him, and stirring him up, and sousing him under, 
till Wolfang had little pieces of skin scrubbed off ; and 
whenever he opened his mouth to shout he went souse 
under and got a mouthful of water ; perhaps that was 
as well, for it weakened the charm he had swallowed 
and saved his life. 

Red Sweth was so used to tasting them that it did 
not affect him so much ; but if it had not been for that 
water it would have upset his son dreadfully. 

Well, at last, when he had scrubbed him quite clean, 
he fished him out with a clothes prop and hung him 
over a chair, before the kitchen fire, to get dry ; and 
then he sat down and got his breath again, for this 
exertion had made him feel very tired. 

There Harold Wolfang hung, and wriggled, and 
yelled, and groaned, for he felt very bad indeed. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


149 


First there was the beating he had got from Jarl, 
then the ducking in the mud, then he had been nibbled 
by the kelpies, then he had been scalded with hot 
charms, then he had swallowed a lot of the awful stuff, 
then he had been banged on the head with a brand new 
caldron till it was cracked, then he had been soused in 
a well and scrubbed with a rough broom, and now he 
was hung before the kitchen fire to dry, and the fire 
was unpleasantly warm, and altogether, if he had not 
been a warlock’s son, I really think that his health 
would have suffered in consequence. 

Then besides. Red Sweth made an extra nasty 
draught to take away the effects of the charm, and 
made him swallow it, and never even gave him a piece 
of orange peel to take the taste away ; so what wonder 
that Wolfang felt very miserable and wished that he 
had never troubled about stealing Droma of the 
Golden Hair at all ? 

But after a while, when he was quite dry again. 
Red Sweth took the charm off him and let him get off 
the chair, and then he asked him what he wanted and 
why he had come. 

“ Where is Droma of the Golden Hair, and what has 
become of the fairy sword ? ” he asked, and Wolfang 
had to tell him all about it. 

And then, dear me, what a dreadful temper the war- 
lock got into to be sure, and how he did scold Wolfang ; 
‘and quite right too, for it was his own fault that he was 
in all this trouble. 

“ Those were most expensive spells,” he grumbled, 
“ and terribly difficult to make ; and here they have 
all been wasted through your carelessness. It is most 
annoying, enough to try any one’s patience ; and then 


THE SAGA OF 


150 

you have lost the fairy sword ! I knew you would — 
I told you so ; and you have got dismissed from 
Hilderbrand’s castle, and disgraced before Red Olaf 1 
I wanted you to stay there, so that you could let me 
know how things were going, and now it is all spoilt ! 
I never felt so vexed in my life.” 

“ What is the use of grumbling about spilt milk ? ” 
growled Wolfang, and the warlock answered — 

“ I am not grumbling about spilt milk. No one 
has spilt any xmilk that I know of. I am grumbling 
about spilt spoils, I mean about spelt spills. No, 
spelled spoilts. Oh, you know what I mean — spoiled 
spells — that is it.” 

“ Well, never mind what you have been grumbling 
about ; I have most cause to do that. Here I have 
tumbled in the swamp and had pieces nibbled out of 
me by the horrid things you keep there.” 

“Yes, and now they will all be ill through it, and 
come to me for medicine,” put in Red Sweth. “ That 
is another trouble ! You cannot even look where you 
are going 1 ” 

“ Oh, let that go,” said Wolfang angrily, “ or I shall 
get cross and cut your head off, father.” 

“ What ! ” shouted the warlock, “ cut my head off ! 
I will cast a spell on you — I will turn you into a polly- 
wog ! Cut my head off, indeed ! ” and he seized his 
magic wand and began muttering a most powerful 
spell, while Harold Wolfang looked for his sword to cut 
his father’s head off, before the spell should be finished. 

But of course the sword was not there, and that 
made him remember the great axe he had left tied to 
his saddle-bow, beside the dead horse. Good gracious ! 
he had forgotten all about that ! and he uttered such 


JARL THE NEATHERD 151 

a shout that Red Sweth stopped in the middle of the 
spell and asked him whatever the matter was now. 

“ The fairy axe ! ” he groaned. “ I left it beside 
the dead horse ! Oh, dear me ! what shall I do now ? ” 

Red Sweth looked more cross than ever, and he 
stamped his foot on the ground and a hideous gnome 
appeared, and asked in a gruff voice — 

“ What do you want with me. Red Sweth ? ” 

“ This careless son of mine has left the giant’s axe. 
Effort, beside his dead horse, the other side of the 
swamp. Haste, and get it, gnome, before any one 
else can find it, and bring it hither to me,” answered 
Red Sweth, and the gnome answered — “ I obey,” and 
vanished. 

In a few minutes he came back with the axe and 
threw it on the floor. 

“ The wolves have eaten the horse as they will eat 
you some day, Wolfang,” he laughed, “ but the axe 
they could not eat, and here it is.” 

“ That is all right,” said the warlock. “Now Wol- 
fang, listen to me. You have made a great deal of 
trouble for me, but we must see how we can get out 
of it and work harm to Olaf’s kingdom and to Jarl 
Hilderbrand.” 

“ The first one to work harm to is Jarl, the son of 
Olin,” answered Wolfang fiercely. “ I care not for 
the others, but he has shamed me and beaten me, and 
he has won my great sword. Tell me how to do that, 
father, and I care not for anything else.” 

“ But I do,” answered Red Sweth. “ I do not care 
about Olin’s son a bit, for he has not beaten me ; but 
I care about Hilderbrand and Olaf, for I hate them 
and would wish to get their land for mine own,” 


153 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Still, Wolfang is right, Red Sweth,” cried a harsh 
voice, and there stood the witch Crawilla. “ It is 
Jarl the Neatherd we must first overthrow, for he will 
else be champion of Norroway in time, and will slay 
us all.” 

“ Hallo, Crawilla ! ” said Red Sweth. “ Where did 
you come from ? ” 

“ That does not matter. I come to help you, and 
to have you help me, Sweth. You hate Hilder brand 
and Olaf, and so do I. But I hate Vryda the Wise 
more, and it is no use seeking to harm your enemies, 
unless we can overthrow mine. Now, Vryda is the 
neatherd’s friend, and it is she who has helped him 
thus far, and we must manage to overthrow Jarl, 
Olin’s son, and so defeat her, and then we can work 
harm and ruin in Norroway. There are the Vikings to 
bring again with fire and sword, but Jarl would over- 
come them. There are the berserkers, but they fear 
the neatherd ! We must bring J arl into disgrace, so 
that he shall never wed Droma of the Golden Hair, and 
then we will soon triumph over our foes.” 

“ But how shall we do that, Crawilla ? ” cried Harold 
Wolfang eagerly. “ I would do anything to disgrace 
and ruin him. I would turn berserker myself, or were- 
wolf either, if I might do that ; ” and Crawilla laughed. 

“ Perhaps thou wilt turn berserker or werewolf 
some day, Harold Wolfang,” she answered, “ but that 
is not yet. I will soon find work for thee to do. Now 
I must have other helpers, for it is not thine arm which 
shall bring about Jarl the Neatherd’s defeat.’* 

“ Never mind whose it is, so long as it is done,” was 
the answer. “ Tell us your plans,” and Red Sweth 
added — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


153 


“ Yes, tell us your plans, Crawilla.” 

“ Well,” said the wicked witch, “ you know that Jarl 
is freeman now and is honoured by Olaf ? ” 

“ This we know,” was the answer. 

“ He hopes for more honour and favour, so that he 
may rise to be great among the warriors of Norroway, 
and be made jarl himself, and wed Droma.” 

“ This we know,” said Sweth, while Wolfang cried — 

“ He shall never do that.” 

“ He will if we cannot hinder him ; and that may 
not be by might,” answered Crawilla. “ Might thou 
hast tried, for thou hast drunk the strength-draught 
and still he was thy master. No, we must try another 
way.” 

“ What way ? ” asked the warlock. 

“ Jarl will seek to gain more favour of Hilderbrand 
and Olaf,” said the witch. “ To do this he will be glad 
to please them if he can. We must summon the three 
troll princes who keep the tryst weapons, and we must 
bid them try Jarl and see if he will prove true.” 

“ Yes,” said Red Sweth eagerly. 

“ Then we must work a spell so that Olaf and Hilder- 
brand will desire the tryst weapons of him, and offer 
him favours for them ; and then Jarl will break tryst, 
and the troll princes will kill him in their anger.” 

“ That is a good plan,” said Red Sweth in delight. 
“ I should never have thought of that, and it won’t 
cost much for charms, either,” he added, but his son 
said — 

“ That is all very well, Crawilla ; but suppose that 
Jarl should keep tryst, what then ? We shall be worse 
off than ever.” 

“ Keep tryst ! Rubbish ! ” cried his father. “ There 


154 


THE SAGA OF 


never was such a one for making objections as you 
are ! Of course he won’t keep tryst. All we have 
got to do is to make the spell strong enough, and make 
the bribe big enough.” 

“ Even if the bribe is Droma of the Golden Hair 
herself,” laughed Crawilla. 

“ No, not her,” shouted Wolfang in a temper, but 
Crawilla laughed — 

“ Do not be foolish, Wolfang. You don’t suppose 
that I mean the neatherd to wed Hilderbrand’s 
daughter, do you ? Oh dear, no, nothing of the 
kind.” 

“ But you said that Droma was to be the bribe,” 
grumbled Wolfang. 

“ I did. But suppose that Jarl refuses this ; then 
will it not seem that he loves not Droma, and has 
shamed her, because he refused to give up the tryst 
weapons for her sake ; and will he not be sent forth 
from Norroway as a nameless man, and have to turn 
Viking, or wander in strange lands ? ” 

“ But suppose he does give up the tryst weapons 
for Droma’s sake ? That is what I mean, Crawilla ? ” 

“ Have I not told you — if he does that, surely the 
troll princes would kill him, or carry him to their 
mines and never let him see the sun again. No, which- 
ever way he does, he is bound to suffer, and we are 
bound to triumph,” 

“ So we are,” said Red Sweth. “ Crawilla, we will 
call the troll princes ; and you, Wolfang, keep silent, 
for if you speak and anger them, there is no charm of 
mine can save you from their power.” 

Now you may be sure that Harold Wolfang kept 
quiet after that, for the troll princes are th«» most 


JARL THE NEATHERD 155 

powerful of all the fay folk, and they are kind or cruel, 
as you offend or please them. 

Then Red Sweth put on his magic robes, and Crawilla 
stood by his side, and they uttered a strange incanta- 
tion, calling the three troll princes from their mountain 
palaces, and bidding them come to their call. 

Then the thunder pealed and the lightning flashed, 
and into the room strode three stern-looking beings 
dressed in silver blue, with golden laces and diamond 



“‘WHAT DOST THOU DESIRE OF US?* . . . THEY ASKED.** 


and emerald embroidery ; and the names of these troll 
princes were Strallo, Strello, and Strollo ; and Strallo 
was the eldest, and Strello was the next, and Strollo 
was the youngest ; and they looked all alike, and ruled 
all the trolls, excepting those that had rebelled and 
gone to serve the witch Crawilla. 

“What dost thou desire of us, the three troll princes?” 
they asked all together in dreadfully stern tones ; and 


THE SAGA OF 


156 

they looked coldly at the witch and the warlock, but 
they took no notice of Wolfang in the corner. 

“ We desire that Jarl, the son of Olin, may be tested 
with the tryst weapons,” answered Crawilla boldly, 
for she knew the troll princes must obey her in this, 
for they must try with the tryst weapons any who they 
are bidden to, until some one succeeds in keeping the 
tryst, when the weapons shall be theirs. 

“Why dost thou desire that we try Jarl, the son 
of Olin ? ” answered Strallo ; and Crawilla replied — 

“ Because he is getting power and fame, and I say 
that it is by evil means ; and I desire to prove this to 
Vryda the Wise, who favours him. For none but the 
brave and the true deserve the fair, and unless it is 
hindered, Jarl will win Droma the fair. ” 

“ Jarl is brave,” cried Strello. 

“ But he is not proved true,” answered Crawilla. 

“ That is so,” said Strollo ; and then the three troll 
princes said, all together — 

“ As thou biddest us, so will we do, Crawilla ; but 
remember, that should this son of Olin prove himself 
true and win the tryst weapons, then surely he will 
overcome thee and thy friends and bring you all to 
death. Shall we make the test ? ” 

“ Make the test,” answered Crawilla boldly. “ We 
are not afraid of the result.” 

“ As thou sayest, so it shall be,” they answered ; 
and then they left the wicked plotters again. 

“ Now,” cried Crawilla, “ now we must get to work. 
There must be no mistakes and no shrinking, for if we 
do not win, Jarl will, and then it will be very serious 
for us.” “ Wolfang, you come with me, and I will hide 
you for the tim^ till you can be of use. There will be 


157 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

Vikings for you to lead, and fire and sword for you to 
bring presently. You, Sweth, get to your charms 
and spells. Call every evil spirit to whisper to Jarl, 
make him proud and avaricious, make him ambitious. 
Let it seem that Droma pines for him, and make him 
promise her to give all in this world for her sake, so that 
from that promise he cannot go back, or that way also 
he will break tryst. I will go and watch and weave, 
and spin my spells to make him deceive. To bring him 
doom both dark and fell, I go. Red Sweth, to cast my 
spell.” 

Now this is the way that Harold Wolfang came to 
the warlock, his father, after Jarl the Neatherd had 
beaten him. And this is the way that Red Sweth and 
his son quarrelled, and how the witch Crawilla came 
and plotted with the warlock, and how the three troll 
princes were summoned to try Jarl, the son of Olin, 
with the tryst weapons. 


158 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XIV 

HOW GUNHILDA THE FAIR WAS ANGERED 

N OW whenjarl, the son of Olin, had vanquished 
Harold Wolfang, and the warlock’s son had 
been tied on his steed and sent away, Jarl Hilder- 
brand gave command that all present should enter 
the great hall of his castle and feast, for he said — 

“ Jarl, the son of Olin, has fought right valiantly, 
and has been made a freeman ; and we will hear the 
minstrels sing his praises.” 

Now Jarl’s heart was very glad ; but he bear him 
modestly, and did not brag or boast as Wolfang had 
done when he overthrew the White Olaf ; nor was he 
too proud to reverence his mother Elsper and his 
father Olin, but to Olin he bent his knee that his 
father might bless him, and to Elsper he offered his 
cheek that she might kiss him. 

Nor when they entered the hall did he seek to walk 
beside the lovely Droma ; but he remained by his 
mother’s side, and seated himself beside her at the 
table. 

Jarl Hilderbrand sat with Red Olaf on one side, 
and with Lady Gunhilda on the other ; and he looked 
down the long hall till he caught sight of Jarl seated a 
long way down, and he called out in his deep voice 
and said, son of Olin, thou art too far down the 


JARL THE NEATHERD 159 

table. Come thou hither and be among those who are 
most valiant.” 

But Jarl rose in his seat and he made answer — 

“ Oh ! Jarl Hilderbrand, the best friend a man has 
is his mother ; and the most honoured place he can 
find is by her side, therefore here will I tarry. Nor 
is it fitting that I should take higher place because I 
have overcome Harold Wolfang this day, for that were 
not a great deed to do ; but some day will I do a great 
deed, and then shall I be found among those who 
have been proved the bravest warriors. Now I am 
but just freed from the thrall-collar, and, moreover, I 
have never been to the war and played the man’s game 
against the foe ; therefore again I say, here will I 
abide till I have proved myself.” 

“Now this is a strange thing,” mused Red Olaf to 
Hilderbrand ; “ but yesterday did Wolfang fill the room 
with his boasting ; and yet here is thy neatherd, who 
has defeated him, and he will not have a word in his 
own praise, not even though it is deserved. 

But White Olaf, who sat near and heard his father’s 
words, answered and said, “ They who are most 
worthy like least to hear their praises sung, oh my 
father and king.” 

And then he rose in his seat and said aloud — 

“My father and king, and you, Jarl Hilderbrand, I 
have a boon to ask.” And the king answered, 
“ What is thy boon. White Olaf ? ” while Hilder- 
brand, who thought perhaps that the prince would 
ask that Droma might be his wife, spake and said— - 
“ Thy boon is granted before it is asked. Prince 
Olaf, be it what it may.” 

So all at the table listened to hear what the prince 


i6o 


THE SAGA OF 


should ask ; and most there thought that he would 
surely ask for Droma of the Golden Hair ; but Droma 
knew better, for she knew that Prince Olaf would keep 
troth and word with her; and so also knew Jarl, the 
son of Olin. 

Then White Olaf answered, and all could hear his 
words plainly, and he said — 

“ Oh ! Red Olaf, and you, Jarl Hilderbrand, I am 
seated by you in honour, and rightly, for I am the 
king’s son ; and Jarl, the son of Olin, you have asked to 
be seated near you, and rightly also, for he is brave and 
the honour should be his ; and yet again, Jarl has 
pleaded to stay where he is, and rightly, for by his 
parents’ side, be he rich or poor, is a man’s most 
honourable place. Is not this so ? ’ 

“It is so,” answered Red Olaf ; and again the 
prince spoke — 

“Now this is my boon : Jarl, the son of Olin, and 
Olaf, the son of the king, are brothers and friends, 
for so we have sworn to each other. Therefore per- 
mit me, the prince, to go and sit beside my brother 
and friend, that I may rejoice with him ; for he has 
overthrown mine adversary and the man who put me 
to shame.” 

Then at these generous words did all the rough 
warriors start to their feet and draw their swords, and 
cry — 

“ Skoal to the White Olaf ! Skoal ! for he is most 
noble and truest of friends in all Norroway.” 

So Red Olaf gave permission, and he liked not his 
son the less because he had shown his faith and kept 
his tryst to the son of the man who had been Hilder- 
brand’s swineherd ; and the prince came and sat by 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


i6i 


Jarl’s side in the lower room, and then the feast began. 

And presently Lady Gunhilda spoke, for this was 
her task, though she liked it not to-day, and she said — 
“ Who is the victor that must be honoured this 
day, oh husband ? ” 

“ Jarl, the son of Olin, is the victor to-day, sweet lady, 
my love,” was the reply of Hilderbrand ; and at this 
Gimhilda frowned still more, yet she took the great 
cup and filled it with wine, and handed it to Droma 
of the Golden Hair, saying — 

“ Honour the victor of the day, O daughter ! ” 
And Droma brought the cup and stood before 
Jarl ; and her eyes were full of love-light as she 
touched the wine with her lips and then handed him 
the cup, saying — 

“ Wes hael to Jarl, son of Olin, the victor to-day.” 
And Jarl bent low ere he took the cup ; and then he 
looked into her eyes and read their message, and it 
was not “ Traitor and Nithing,” as it had been to 
Harold Wolfang, but it was — 

“ Jarl, I am proud and happy ; Jarl, I love you for 
ever.” 

“ Drink hael to Droma the Beautiful,” he an- 
swered ; and he too touched the wine with his lips, 
and then placed the cup on the table. 

But when Red Olaf saw this, he smote on the board 
with his fist, and he shouted — 

“ Now, son of Olin, but you do the Lady Droma 
shame, for you have not drunk the wine ! A brave 
warrior should have drained the cup at a draught. 
Come, drink it, man, drink it, for a fair hand has given 
it ; and fair lips have sweetened it.” 

But Jarl answered modestly and said — 

L 


i 62 


THE SAGA OF 


“Oh, King Olaf, it is not wise to let the enemy into 
thy castle, is it ? ” 

“ It is not wise ; and did warder of mine so, I would 
slay him,” answered Red Olaf readily. But I do not 
understand the riddle, son of Olin, nor why thou hast 
left thy wine.” 

“ The riddle is easy, 0 King,” was the reply.” 
“ For this red wine is the enemy ; and feeble as it is, 
it is stronger than the strongest, and steals away a 
man’s strength ere he knows it. He who lets the 
enemy in deserves to be overcome, 0 King ; and he 
who lets the cunning overthrow him shall surely come 
to shame.” 

“Now!” shouted Jarl Hilderbrand, “the riddle 
is right, O King Olaf ; and would that the warriors 
of Norroway would remember it. But yesterday did 
Harold Wolfang vanquish all who came against him, 
yet he fell helpless when the wine cup was opposed to 
him. Jarl, son of Olin, is wise, and for his speech I do 
him honour. Let the skalds sing the praises of Jarl, 
son of Olin.” 

Then did all the minstrels strike their harps and 
begin to sing of Jarl, and how he had fought and 
conquered, till Hilderbrand, his lord, had taken the 
thrall-collar from off his neck ; and the more they 
sang the more did Gunhilda the Fair frown, for she 
liked not to hear the song, seeing that she feared that 
Droma of the Golden Hair would turn to Jarl and 
forget Olaf the prince. And the skalds sang — 

Out of the sunbeam land. 

Out of the cloud realm, 

Came the good people 
To Olin and Elsper. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


163 


Bringing their thank-gift 
For food and for shelter. 

“ Jarl shall his name be; 

Son of a swineherd." 

Skoal to Jarl, the son of the swineherd I 

Into the castle hall, 

Into the feasting, 

Came the storm-sister, 

Crawilla the wicked. 

Casting her bane on 
Hilderbrand’s daughter. 

Whose was the hand, and 
Whose was the token. 

That from the witch-might 
Droma delivered ? 

Jarl's was the hand, and 
Vryda’s the token. 

Skoal to Jarl, the son of the swineherd i 

Deep in the forest 
Loud roared the waster. 

Many the tears of 
The women and cliildren, 

Many the victims, 

Slain by the werewolf. 

Helpless before him, 

Golden-Haired Droma, 

Who shall deliver 
Hilderbrand’s daughter ? 

Then came the born- thrall, 

Jarl, son of Olin. 

With but a boar-spear. 

Slew he the werewolf. 

Skoal to the bom- thrall, Jarl, son of Olin I 

Where the brown herds graze. 

Came the fierce slayers. 

On to the pasture land. 

Rushed the berserkers: 


164 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Hilderbrand’s cattle 
Yield, son of Olin/* 

Where are the fierce ones ? 

Where the berserkers ? 

Who has o’erthrown them. 

Alone, single-handed ? 

Who is the warrior ? 

Jarl, son of Olin. 

Skoal to the born- thrall, Jarl, son of Olin! 

Where is the warlock’s son ? 

Where Harold Wolfang ? 

Why is he swordless ? 

Who hath o’erthrown him? 

Nithing and traitor, 

Sought he our Droma. 

Droma the Golden Haired, 

Who shall deliver ? 

Jarl, son of Olin, 

He hath overthrown him. 

He hath the fairy sword 
From Wolfang taken. 

Droma, the victor cup. 

Give thou thy lover. 

Skoal to Jarl, Olin’s son I 
Skoal to thy lover 1 

This was the song the skalds sang ; and at the end 
of it Droma went very red, and Gunhilda her mother 
frowned still more, while Hilderbrand pulled his 
beard and looked grave, and Red Olaf shook his head. 

But the skalds might always sing what they liked, 
and no one might punish them for their words ; and 
they knew how it had been from the very first, that 
Droma and Jarl were sweethearts. 

Then said Red Olaf — 

“.That is a good song for thee, Jarl, son of Olin, and 
a bad one for the prince, my son and thy brother.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 165 

“ It is good for me, oh my father, the king,” said 
Olaf quietly, “ for this thing which thou didst wish, 
I knew from the first might not be. And what is 
written in the fairy runes shall come to pass, whether 
we wish it or no.” 

“ That is a true word of thine. White Olaf,” cried 
Hilderbrand. “ But the prize is not won yet, son of 
Olin ; nor shall it be lightly granted till thou hast won 
it well.” 

And Jarl answered — 

“ Let the task be what it will, I will be the doer.” 

“ Now I have a word,” said Red Olaf. “ Jarl, son 
of Olin, thou hast overcome the warlock’s son, and he 
has fled and shall be seen no more in our midst. He 
has gone to join the warlock, his father, and we 
call him nameless man and landless man. Thou 
didst give him his life, but this is my word — his lands 
shall be thine, and thou shalt be under -jarl ; and 
when thou hast proved thyself with us in the man’s 
game, thou shalt be Jarl like he who was thy master 
and is now thy friend ; and men shall call thee Jarl 
Olinson, for thou art son of Olin.” 

“ The word is a good word,” said all there ; and 
they shook their swords and repeated the skalds’ cry — 

“ Skoal to Jarl Olinson.” 

Then did Lady Gunhilda the Fair rise from her 
seat, for her heart was very bitter ; and she went to 
her chamber and sent for her lord, and she said to him — 

“ Oh, Hilderbrand my husband, what evil have I 
done thee that thou hast put shame on me and on 
Droma the Golden Haired, and listened to the skald 
song ? ” 

But Hilderbrand answered gravely — 


i66 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Sweet love, my lady. In the war game and the 
love game ’tis the same. It may not be as we list, but 
as the fairies work. ’Tis he who is best that wins, 
and we must let be. As for Jarl, he was my born- 
thrall ; but he is to-day a freeman and jarl, and the 
brother of White Olaf, and has a name amongst men. 
Rough be the hand if true the heart, sweet love, my 
lady ; and that is all I say.” 

But Lady Gunhilda the Fair was still angry ; and 
when her lord left her she sat alone and brooded, nor 
would she let her maidens sing and talk to her, for 
her heart was bitter. 

She had wanted Droma to marry the White Olaf 
and be first lady in all the land, and queen when Olaf 
should be king ; and now she was to be the love of a 
man who had worn thrall-collar and been neatherd ; 
and Gunhilda clenched her hands and said that she 
would do aught to hinder this ; and her heart was full 
of bitterness, so that Crawilla the witch, flying by, 
knew that there were angry thoughts and bitter 
near ; for the heart of Gunhilda called to her, and she 
came and stood on the casement-ledge and smiled at her. 

Only she changed her features, so that Gunhilda did 
not think it was the wicked storm-sister who had long 
ago tried to injure her baby Droma, but thought that 
it was a good fairy come to help her and save Droma 
from what she thought was shame. 

“ Greeting, Lady Gunhilda the Fair,” said Craw- 
illa. “ Wliat is thy grief that thou lookest so sad ? ”• 

Then Gunhilda the Fair told Crawilla all her 
trouble ; and the cunning witch pretended to be very 
sorry, and looked as if she did not know anything 
about it, and she answered — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


167 

“ Truly, Lady Gunliilda the Fair, thou art right to 
grieve for this thing, for ’tis shameful that thy 
beautiful daughter should mate with a neatherd. 
But fear not and I will help thee. Only give me three 
hairs from thy head, and three hairs from the head of 
Droma thy daughter, and all will be well.” 

So Gunhilda gave Crawilla three hairs from her own 
long tresses ; and she went to Droma’s chamber and 
began stroking her long golden hair. And presently 
Droma cried — 

“ O ! lady my mother, you have hurt me ; you have 
pulled three golden hairs from my head.” But Gun- 
hilda answered — 

“ Thou art ungrateful, Droma my daughter. Thou 
hast many golden hairs. Dost thou begrudge me 
three, when you gave a thrall a whole tress ? ” 

“ I begrudge not thee, lady my mother,” answered 
Droma, putting her arms round her mother’s neck. 
“ All my tresses are thine if thou dost want them.” 

Then Gunhilda the Fair went back to her own 
chamber, and there was the witch still awaiting her, 
and Crawilla said — 

“ Gunhilda the Fair, hast thou brought the three 
golden hairs from Droma’s head ? ” 

“ I have, good fairy,” answered Gunhilda, placing 
them in her hand. “ See, here they are.” 

“ That is well,” answered Crawilla. “ Now listen 
to me. Do not seem to frown on Jarl, the son of Olin. 
Presently I will send a message to you, and then you 
must ask him if he can tell you the strangest story 
he knows ; and when he has told you, you must ask him 
if he can show you the funniest treasures in the world ; 
and if this he does, then you must ask him to give these 


i68 


THE SAGA OF 


things to you. If he say nay, you must give him no 
peace — ^you must ask Jarl Hilderbrand to purchase 
these things for you — you must ask the Red Olaf to 
command him to give them up — ^you must feign to be 
ill for longing for them. Nay, you must ask Droma 
herself to seek to gain them for you.” 

“ But what are these things, good fairy ? ” asked 
Gunhilda. “ I will not stoop to beg favours from 
Jarl, the son of Olin.” 

“ You must, Gunhilda the Fair,” answered Craw- 
illa, “ or thy heart shall not have its wish. If he 
give them up, then will he die ; and if he give them 
not up, then will he shame Droma and be sent forth 
a nameless man and landless, again ; and Droma will 
never think of him more, and will turn and wed the 
White Olaf, as thou dost wish.” 

“Then will I do all you command me, fairy,” 
cried Gunhilda. “ Even as soon as you send me 
word.” 

“ It is well,” was the answer ; and then Crawilla 
hastened away, chuckling to think how well shle was 
succeeding in her plot to destroy Jarl. Besides, she 
had got the golden hairs from Droma’s head, and 
three hairs from Gunhilda’s head, so she would be 
able to cast spells upon them afterwards, and get them 
into her power. 

And Gunhilda the Fair, never thinking what evil 
she had done, or how cruel a foe she had been talking 
to, closed her casement and went in and was quite 
happy now. And she remembered Crawilla’s advice, 
and was full of soft speech and smiles for the son of 
Olin, for she thought that soon he would either be 
slain or made nameless man again. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 169 

Now this is how Jarl, the son of Olin, was honoured, 
and how the skalds sang his praises ; and this is how 
Gunhilda the Fair thought to work him evil and 
bring him to shame. 


THE SAGA OF 


170 


CHAPTER XV 

HOW VRYDA THE WISE CAME TO JARL AND DROMA 

N OW Jarl. the son of Olin, was no more a thrall and 
neatherd, but he was an under-jarl, and had 
all the lands which had belonged to Harold W’olfang, 
the son of Red Sweth the Warlock ; and no man knew 
what had become of Wolfang, but they said he had 
fled to the warlock to be hidden, so that none might 
see him in his shame. 

As for Jarl, he did not boast, nor did he put on 
many rings and bracelets, for he liked not these things 
much, but said they were for women and not for men ; 
and he went to his new home and took Olin and 
Elsper there, and bade his servants and thralls 
honour and obey them. 

“You must look after your own household, my 
son,” said Olin ; but Jarl laughed and cried — 

“ Oh ! father, that is too hard a task for one who 
has only had a hut on the mountain to tend to, and 
neither man nor maid to wait on him. Truly, do you 
and my dear mother see to tliese things, for I had 
rather far tend a herd of straying oxen than have the 
ordering of servants.” 

“ I will look after thy house, my son, until thou 
dost bring a wife to be mistress,” said Elsper — and 
again Jarl laughed. 


]ARL THE NEATHERD 


171 

“ That will not be yet, mother mine, for I will not 
ask for Droma of the Golden Hair till I can bring a 
name honoured, and a fame known, to her.” 

But Jarl was not idle now he was a freeman. He 
saw to his lands, and he saw also that the servants 
who had served under Harold Wolfang had been lazy, 
and knew not how to till the ground properly, nor to 
tend the herds ; so he went with them into the fields 
and set them their tasks, though often he desired to 
be at the castle and with Lady Droma. 

But the gifts of Vryda the Wise ever pinched his 
feet when he wanted to leave his work, so he tarried 
and laboured, and presently he saw the corn begin to 
spring, and the herds grow sleek and fat ; and there 
was plenty of milk and butter, and the pigs were the 
fattest in the place, so that people said — 

“Jarl Olinson is the best under- jarl in all Norro- 
way ; ” and they sent and asked that he would teach 
their sons how to tend the farms, so that they might 
have such crops and herds. 

And when they asked him how it was done, he 
would laugh and say — 

“ By hard work. By hard work and by doing one’s 
own share,” which was very true — for hard work and 
doing your own share is the best way to get on in 
this world. 

But sometimes he would be at the castle, and then, 
oh ! what happy times did he have with his love Droma, 
for now that the skalds had sung their praise-song, 
people no longer shook their heads, but said that it 
was written in the fairy runes, and that it must be, 
and none could hinder. 

Only Gunhilda the Fair waited to hinder, and was 


172 THE SAGA OF 

impatient for the token and message to come from 
Crawilla. 

But that did not come yet, for many things had to 
happen first ; and it was not time for the three troll 
princes to test Jarl’s faith with the tryst weapons. 
And all this time it was peace-time in the land. 

King Olaf had gone back to his palace, but often 
did he come to see his old friend Jarl Hilderbrand, 
and often did the White Olaf come and see Jarl 
Olinson. 

So did things go till the harvest came, and then Jarl 
asked Droma to come and see the fields and give the 
men their harvest drink for him. And Droma came 
and praised all she saw, and sat with Elsper in the 
house, watching Jarl and Olin and the men toiling 
and reaping; and carrying the harvest drink to them 
when they paused in their labours. 

And when the evening came, and the work was done 
and the feast over, then did Jarl fasten the great fairy 
sword on his thigh, and take his shield on his arm, and 
walk back through the moonlit fields with Droma to 
her father’s castle ; and though the bears and wolves 
lurked in the shadows, and licked their lips and 
thought how good Droma would be to eat, yet they 
did not dare come out, for they knew Jarl and feared 
his strong arm and his good sword. 

Now it happened, as they walked home talking of 
their love, that Jarl took a ring from his pouch and 
placed it on Droma’s finger, and said to her — 

“Oh, sweetheart Droma, I have not given you 
tryst-ring before ; but now I will give this one to you. 
Will you take it from me ? ” 

“ There was no need, dear Jarl,” answered Droma, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


173 


“for I think we have kept tryst all our lives and been 
true lovers since we were children. Yet I will wear 
thy tryst-ring, and all men shall know that Droma, 
the daughter of Jarl Hilderbrand, is the love of Jarl 
Olinson.” 

“And, Droma, all men shall see that Jarl Olinson 
is seeking to be worthy of thy love. All my life shall 
be for thee, Droma of the Golden Hair, and my sword 
shall be thy protection. And this I swear, that I 
will coimt nothing too much to do for thy sake, and 
that nothing shsdl ” 

“ Wait a minute, Jarl Olinson,” said a quiet voice. 
And as Jarl turned, not too well pleased at being 
interrupted, he saw in the soft moonlight Vryda the 
Wise standing near them, and he said — 

“ Vryda the Wise, is it you ? You are ever my 
friend and welcome. Yet me thinks you had proved 
yourself more wise and more my friend had you not 
come now. Wlien the swans sing their love songs, 
Vryda, they go to the secret lakes ; and when lovers 
breathe their vows, they like not other ears to hear 
them.” 

But Vryda laughed gently and answered — 

“ True, Jarl ; but when foolish folk speak 
thoughtlessly, it is needful to check their words, for 
words said may not be recalled, and promises made 
must not be broken lightly.” 

“ Jarl will not break his promise to me, Vryda,” 
said Droma with a smile. 

And Vryda replied to her and said — 

“ That is so, Droma, friend of Vryda. But Jarl 
may make such promises as will cost him dear in the 
keeping, and bring you sorrow. Listen, Jarl. When 


174 


THE SAGA OF 


you were honoured in the hall of Hilderbrand, and 
he told you that you must well win the prize, you 
answered that be the task what it might, you would 
be the doer.” 

“And that is my word now, Vryda,” answered 
Jarl ; but Vryda the Wise shook her head. 

“ Jarl, the foolish speak first and think last ; the 
wise think first and then speak. Suppose that thy 
enemies took this boast of thine, and the task set 
thee was one that would reveal thee traitor and 
nithing — how wouldst thou manage then ? ” 

“ I would never have him do such task,” cried 
Droma. 

And Jarl added, “ Hilderbrand is too good and 
noble to set such a task.” 

“ Thine enemies are cunning, and might deceive him.” 

“ Then,” said Droma, “ I would speak my word, 
and say that Jarl should not so do, or else I would not 
see his face again, and that would end the matter. 
But still, Jarl, Vryda is wise and right : it is not well 
to make promises ere we know what the keeping 
costs.” 

“ Surely,” cried Jarl, “ it is wise to show my 
love for you, sweet Droma, and to promise that I 
would do anything to win you.” 

“Did you make that promise and keep it, Jarl, 
you would lose Droma,” said Vryda. “ It would, 
indeed, please thy foes to hear thee do so ; and for that 
reason have I come to hinder thy speech. For, Jarl, 
thou wilt indeed be tested in this way — ^how, I may 
not tell thee, but the test will come, and it will seem 
that an easy way of having all thy heart covets will 
be given thee at the price of thy word. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


175 

“I do not understand, Vryda,” answered JarL 
“ I have ever kept my word in good and in ill.” 

“ Thou must wait and see, Jarl,” answered Vryda. 
“ Only this I say : make not rash promises that may 
shame thee in the keeping.” 

Then Droma of the Golden Hair put her arms 
round his neck and looked up into his face, and her 
eyes were like the soft stars on the summer’s night ; 
and she said — 

“ Jarl, my beloved. There is one promise you 
shall give me, and one vow you shall make. Promise 
me that you will never do aught that is wrong, even to 
win me. That you will be true to your promise to 
all men, rich or poor, thrall or free, friend or foe ; and 
let thy true word and troth stand before all else. 
Promise me this, Jarl, son of Olin, my true love and 
lord.” 

So Jarl bent and kissed her, and he gave her the 
promise which she asked, though neither of them 
knew how it would have to be kept presently. But 
Vryda was wise, and she knew just what Crawilla and 
Red Sweth desired ; and she knew, too, the way in 
which to defeat their evil plots — and this was why she 
had come. 

She smiled when Jarl had given his promise, and 
she said to Droma — 

“Oh, Droma of the Golden Hair, that is a good 
promise vrhich you have made thy lover make, and 
one that will bring you joy at last. Now I do not \vant 
to stay longer, for, as Jarl has said, when the swans 
sing their love songs they go to the hidden lakes, so 
that none may hear ; and when lovers whisper their 
sweet words, it is not well that other ears should listen.” 


THE SAGA OF 


176 

Then Vryda vanished, and Jarl and Droma were 
left alone ; and they stood in the moonlight and 
whispered of their love, and it was peace-time for them. 
What cared they for the wolves and bears when they 
were telling of their love ? So they stood talking, 
till presently they heard the sound of soft music, and 
when they looked round they saw a most wonderful 
sight — there, trooping through the forest towards the 
moonlight, were hundreds and hundreds of little 
gnomes and trolls. 

Some were dressed like little miners and carried 
picks and spades, and Jarl knew these were the 
mountain-folk. 

Some were dressed like little hunters and had 
spears and bows ; and some seemed as if they had 
been working in the fields, for they had hay-forks and 
scythes. 

And there were little maidens with milk -pails and 
cans ; and they all came trooping forward, while the 
beetles and the crickets played for them on their 
drums and horns. 

And flying along through the soft air came the good 
people — ^little dainty beings with gossamer wings and 
shining wands, such as they had never seen before. 

And there in the forest they all gathered and formed 
a great ring round Jarl and Droma ; and they all 
bowed low three times and cried — 

“ Hail, Droma of the Golden Hair ! Hail, Jarl 
Olinson ! Hail Vryda’s friends ! ” And the sound 
of their voices was like the soft pattering of rain on 
the forest leaves ; and Droma and Jarl answered, 
standing hand in hand in the middle of the ring — 

“ Hail, little people ! Hail, good folk ! ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 177 

Then the fairies clapped their hands and nodded 
and smiled one to another, and they said — 

“ These are true lovers and have kept tryst ever 
since they came from the sunbeam land. Jarl and 
Droma, the fairies are your friends, and we will help 
you and fight for you against evil.” 

“ Thank you, little people,” said Jarl. And Droma 
also said, “ Thank you, little people.” 



Then Droma remembered that her pocket was filled 
with sweet cake, for she had placed it there while she 
gave the men their harvest drink, in case any should 
be hungry ; so she sat down on the ground very 
gently, so that she might not frighten the fay folk — 
for they are very timid — and she bade Jarl do the same. 

Jarl obeyed, stepping very carefully so that he 
might not tread on any of the little people, and the 
fairies stood all round, looking very puzzled. 

M 


lyS 


THE SAGA OF 


Then Droma took out the cake and broke it up into 
tiny crumbs, and held it in the palm of her hand, and 
she said — 

“Fairy friends, will you come and eat Droma’s 
harvest cake ? ” 

And then, dear me ! it was just like the ants swarm- 
ing round the honey pots — they were clambering all 
over her and Jarl, laughing and chattering and eating 
Droma’s cake. 

They played hide-and-seek amidst her long tresses, 
and they caught hold of Jarl’s hair and swung to and 
fro, laughing and singing ; and then quite a hundred 
of them took hold of the hilt of his sword and tried 
to draw it, but they had not the power to even move it. 

So Jarl drew it out very softly, and the great blade 
shone in the moonlight, and the fairies stood looking 
at it and nodding and smiling. 

“ It is a good sword, Jarl Olinson,” they said, “ a 
good sword, well won, and it shall win fame and 
fortune for thee. There are troubles for you and for 
Droma that we may not tell you of yet ; but through 
the trouble the joy will come, and your foes will be 
conquered. Farewell, Jarl Olinson. Farewell, Droma 
of the Golden Hair. We thank you for your harvest 
cake, and we are your friends,” 

And then all the fay folk ran scampering away, just 
like the squirrels or rabbits when they are frightened, 
and Jarl and Droma went on their way also, hand in 
hand through the shadow and the light, till they came 
to Jarl Hilderbrand’s castle. 

Now this is how Vryda the Wise met Droma and 
Jarl, and how the lovers saw the fay folk in the forest. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


179 


CHAPTER XVI 

OF THE STRANGE MEN WHO CAME TO JARL 

J ARL Olinson sat at the door of his house, his sword 
by his side and his spear in his hand, for though 
it was peace-time in the land, he had been playing the 
man’s game. 

Robbers from the other side of the mountains had 
been stealing the village people’s cattle and pigs, and 
Jarl had said that he would no longer submit to these 
rascals doing as they liked. 

So he had gone to Jarl Hilderbrand and told him that 
he would go and punish the thieves, and Hilderbrand 
had bidden him go. 

And now he had come back from his work, and the 
robbers had fled away in dismay ; for Jarl and his 
followers had punished them dreadfully, and the robber 
chief was slain ; and now the villagers need not fear any 
longer that their cattle and pigs would be taken from 
them ; and they sang the song of praise for Jarl Olinson 
the under-jari. 

And Jarl had made a feast for them at his house ; 
and Hilderbrand had come, bringing Droma of the 
Golden Hair, that she might hear the praises of Jarl 
sung ; but the Lady Gunhilda would not come, but sat 
in her chamber and longed for the time when she should 
receive her message, and bring about the ruin of the 
thrall’s son. 


i8o 


THE SAGA OF 


And the feeist was over and the people gone \ and 
Jarl had ridden back with Hilder brand and Droma to 
the castle, he and his men, and done them honour ; 
and now he had come home again, and was resting in 
his porchway. 

Elsper and Olin were in the house, while their son sat 
alone thinking ; for they said one to the other, “ Jarl’s 
soul is full of music ; let us leave him that he may listen 
to his joy-song, alone.” 

Now it chanced that as Jarl sat thinking of all that 
had happened, and how he was gaining honour and a 
name, and might soon ask Hilderbrand to give him 
Droma of the Golden Hair to be his wife, he spied a 
strange little old man come limping up the road 
towards his house. 

Oh ! such a strange looking little old man he was, 
dressed all in rags like some poor wandering beggar, 
and leaning on a rough stick. His shoes were worn, 
and his long heard was white as snow ; and his head was 
bald, and his form was bent, and this little old man 
led a poor old pony, that looked as old and miserable 
as himself. 

For the creature was lame of one leg and blind of 
one eye, so that he could not see on the side where his 
sound legs were, and he could not walk on the side where 
the good eye was ; but went limp, limp this way and that, 
like a ship sailing before cross winds, which must keep 
tacking from side to side. 

Now ever in Jarl’s heart was there reverence for 
old age, and pity for misfortune, and he rose hastily and 
called out to his mother to get food ready for the wan- 
derer, and he himself ran to the road, and waited to bid 
the old man welcome. 


JARL THE NEATHERD i8i 

And when the wanderer came near, Jarl said — 

“ Friend, the way is long and the evening is growing 
apace, tarry with me and rest under my roof-tree for 
the night.” 

“Thou hast a good heart, Jarl Olinson,” answered 
the old man feebly. “ I will do as thou sayest, but 
first let me stable my noble horse, for he is the best 
charger in all the land of Norroway.” 



“*HE IS THE BEST CHARGER IN . . . NORROWAY.* ” 


Now at this Jarl felt as if he must laugh aloud, for 
the pony was not worth a feed of corn ; but he thought 
that the poor old man was but as a child, and he would 
not give his humble guest pain ; so he answered 
gravely — 

“ A good man loves his horse well, friend. Thou art 
my guest, and I myself will tend to thy steed, and think 
it no shame to do so. You enter, and I will see to thy 
horse for thee.” 


i 82 


THE SAGA OF 


So the old man entered the house and sat by the fire, 
and Jarl Olinson gently led the poor old pony to the 
stable, and gave him soft straw,and fresh hay, and plenty 
of good corn, and the old pony said — 

“ Thank you, Jarl Olinson, may men ever be as good 
friends to you, as you have been to my master and to me.” 

Back went Jarl towards the house to see that his 
guest was tended properly ; and lo and behold ! as he 
reached the door, there, limping wearily down the road, 
he thought he saw the old man come again. 

“ Well,” said Jarl, “ where has the poor old fellow 
been to, while I was tending that pony of his, I wonder.” 
But a voice said from within the house — 

“Truly I have been nowhere, Jarl Olinson,” and 
Jarl looked in at the door, and there was the old 
man seated by the fire. 

“Now this is very strange,” cried Jarl ; “for 
there is thyself out in the roadway, and yet thou art 
here ! Art thou a warlock, that thou canst put thy- 
self into two places at once ? ” 

“ Nay, I am no warlock, Jarl Olinson,” answered the 
old man, “ nor can I put myself in two places at once. 
Yonder old man coming down the road, is but my 
brother. I suspect he carries his shield. ’Tis a precious 
shield, but it is heavy, so he could not walk as fast as I 
did.” 

“ Then if he is thy brother, he is welcome to share thy 
supper and mine,” said Jarl ; and he went out and 
strode down the road towards the second old man, 
who looked even more shabby and more old than the 
first one had done. And truly enough this old man 
was staggering along with a great shield in his arms, and 
he was panting out — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 183 

“ Oh, my shield 1 Oh, my precious shield ! Oh. 
how heavy thou art, my precious shield!’' 

Now at this Jarl felt ready to laugh again, for this 
shield was so thin and so old and rusty and cracked, 
that it would not have been of the least use to any one ; 
but he said gravely — 

“ Brother, will you let me carry your precious shield 
for you ; and will you be my guest and sit at my table, 
where your brother awaits you ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, Jarl Olinson,” answered the little man. 

‘ I will be thy guest and thou shalt carry my shield, for 
it is very heavy. Only be careful, for there is not 
another shield so precious in all Norroway.” 

“Now truly these are strange little old men,” 
thought Jarl, greatly amused, but he took the shield 
carefully and he led the second old man into the house 
and seated him by his brother ; and he carried the old 
cracked shield to his own room and placed it by his bed, 
and he said to the old man — 

“ He who will take thy shield, friend, must take it 
from me and my good sword here.” 

“ Thou art a kind heart, Jarl Olinson,” the old man 
replied ; “ but if thou wilt add to thy kindness, look 
forth from the door, for lo ! our brother comes, and he 
moves not so fast as I can, for the armour he carries is 
heavier than is my shield, and I walked faster !” 

“Well, truly,” thought Jarl, “this is a strange 
family, and they must all be mad together ! However, 
I have bread enough and meat enough, and need not 
grudge a few hungry, weary ones food and shelter.” 

So he went to the door once more, and looked down 
the road, and lo ! there came a third old man like the 
other two, only still older and more shabby and feeble. 


THE SAGA OF 


184 

and he bent nearly double beneath the weight of an old 
suit of armour which he carried on his back, while under 
one arm stuck out the long lance of a noble Jarl; and 
he moaned and he groaned as he came along — 

“ Oh ! my armour, my precious, precious armour ! 
Oh ! you are breaking my back, my precious suit of 
armour ! ” 

“ Why good father ! ” cried Jarl, a smile coming upon 
his face in spite of himself. “ Surely you will never 
wear armour again ; your war-days are gone. Why 
dost thou trouble to bear that suit of old armour ? I 
should throw it away.” 

“Throw it away, Jarl Olinson ! ” answered the 
little man, seeming to get into a mighty rage. “ Oh ! 
you would throw it away, would you ? Then I would not. 
This is the most precious suit of armour in all Norroway; 
while as for this lance, ’tis the strongest that ever was 
made.” 

Now Jarl felt that he must laugh this time ; for 
the armour was so rusty that it was all falling to 
pieces, while as for the lance, a great piece broke off, 
while the old man was speaking. 

But Jarl remembered that old people must be re- 
spected, and their strange ways humoured, so he an- 
swered humbly — 

“ Forgive me father ; I did not notice how costly 
and good the armour was, when I spoke, for I have 
only been a thrall’s son and neatherd, and know little 
of such things as these.” 

“Thou art forgiven, Jarl Olinson,” answered the 
little old man. “ Now tell me, hast thou seen my two 
brothers on the road ? ” 

“ They tarry at my house for the night,” answered 


JARL THE NEATHERD 185 

Jarl. “ And I am come to bid you also be my guest, 
if thou wilt.” 

“ Right gladly will I do that, Jarl Olinson,” was the 
reply ; “for I am sore weary, and this load is 
heavy.” 

“ Let me carry it for you, father,” said Jarl, and the 
old man replied, “ Thou must be very careful of it, Jarl 
Olinson, for it is very, very precious.” 

“ I will be very careful,” answered Jarl, and he took 
the armour and the lance, and he carried them to his 
house, while the old man followed. 

Then, when the three old men had eaten their 
supper, they said to Jarl: “Jarl Olinson, what hast 
thou done with our treasures ? ” 

“ The pony is in the stall, the shield and the armour 
and lance are in my chamber,” answered Jarl, “ and 
they who would touch them must ask my good sword’s 
leave first.” And with this he drew the great sword 
Resolution, and held it up before the three old men. 

“ Jarl Olinson, that is a good sword,” they answered ; 
“ and it is a good arm that wields it. Jarl Olinson, if 
we sleep as thy guests to-night, wilt thou keep w^atch 
over our treasures ? for surely some rascal will try to 
steal them.” 

“ I will keep watch,” answered Jarl, thinking only 
to humour them J and then the three old men went 
to bed. 

Then, when they were asleep, Elsper and Olin came 
to Jarl, to laugh at the strange ways of the poor old 
men ; and they said — 

“ Jarl, thou wilt not be so foolish as to sit up 
guarding this rubbish, which no one would stop to 
pick up, were it cast on the wayside. While as for the 


i86 


THE SAGA OF 


pony, ’tis so miserable that the very wolves would 
not touch it. Surely thou wilt not sit up.” 

“ Of course not,” laughed Jarl. “ I did but speak 
to comfort them, that they might sleep weU. I am 

weary and will go to rest, and — Oh ! ” 

Yes, Jarl said “ Oh ! ” indeed ; for just then Duty gave 
him such a nip that he jumped right out of his chair. 

“ What is it, son Jarl ? ” cried Elsper in dismay, 
and Jarl answered, rather ruefully — 

“ ’Tis Vryda’s gift shoe pinching me, mother ; and 
telling me that I must sit up.” 

“ But why ? Who would steal such litter ? ” cried 
Olin. 

“That I do not know, father,” answered Jarl; 
“ but Vryda has whispered in mine ear and I under- 
stand — I gave a promise and that promise I must 
keep. Good-night, father ; good-night, mother — tired 
or not, I keep ward to-night.” 

So Olin and Elsper went to bed ; and Jarl sat up to 
keep watch ; and all the place was quiet, and he felt 
that he would sit down and rest, for what was there to 
watch against, seeing that there was nothing to steal ? 

But it seemed that Vryda’s gift shoes did not think 
like that ; for whenever he sat down to fall asleep, 
they pinched him ; and Duty kept pulling at his foot, 
as if to take him to the stables to see that the old 
pony was all safe. 

“ Well, ’tis silly to go,” he said to himself, “ but 
stiU I will do it ; ” and with his great sword in his 
hand, he went through the dark night to the stable and 

then Why, what was that ? A great bear trying 

to undo the door and get in ! 

Such a great bear ; bigger than any that Jarl had 


JARL THE NEATHERD 187 

ever seen in his life ; and the bear turned and growled 
at him fiercely, its eyes shining bright-red, and its 
yellow fangs all gleaming. 

“ Hallo, rascal ; what do you want here ? ” cried Jarl. 
“ Do you think that is the pig-stye ? ” 

“ Jarl, Jarl, go thy way and leave me alone,” 
replied the bear. “ I want neither pig nor horse of 
thine. All I want is that lame and blind pony ; and 
that I mean to have, so do not try to hinder me or 
’twill be the worse for you.” 

“ Well, this is strange truly,” thought Jarl. “ What 
does he want the old pony for ? But that does not 
matter — ^he will not have it,” and so he told the bear. 

“ Then will I slay thee,” roared the bear ; and it 
sprang at Jarl to tear him to pieces. 

But Jarl’s great sword was ready, and it flashed in 
the pale moonlight as Jarl struck one mighty blow and 
drove the blade through the monster’s heart. 

“ There, now get the pony if thou canst ! ” he 
laughed ; and with that he went back to the house ; 
knowing that if any other robbers came, they would 
see the dead bear, and run off in fear. 

But when he reached the house again, there, before 
the door, stood two night wanderers — evil creatures 
like gnomes, that come from the dark land to do 
mischief — and they were trying to get in — 

“ Hallo, rascals ; what do you want here ? ” cried 
Jarl, and the night wanderers stretched their great 
claws, and showed their teeth, and answered — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, give to us the armour, the lance 
and shield, that the old men, thy guests, have given to 
thee to guard. Give them to us, or we will kill thee 
first, and then take them.” 


i88 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Then kill me first, as thou sayest,” answered Jarl ; 
“ for while I live, thou shalt not have the old men’s 
possessions.” 

Thereupon the two evil creatures flew at him and 
a terrible combat began ; for they sought to tear him 
with their claws. 

But Jarl faced them manfully ; and his sword was 
like a ring of light, so quickly did he make it circle 
round — and it slashed off one claw, and it struck off 
another. It sliced off a long nose, and cut through a 
skinny leg ; and then, at last, it went swish, swish 
right through two thin bodies, and the night wan- 
derers were cut clean in halves. 

Then the halves picked themselves up and gathered 
up all the scattered claws and tails and other parts ; 
and then ran off as fast as fast could be, and Jarl had 
kept his word and guarded the old men’s things all 
through the night ; and then the morning broke. 

Now when the old men had woke up and had their 
breakfast, they began to ask Jarl how he had kept 
watch ; but Jarl did not boast, and only said that the 
things were all safe. 

But the first little old man said : “ Jarl, son of Olin, 
what means that great dead bear by the stable ? ” 
so Jarl had to tell him. 

And the second old man asked ; “Jarl, son of Olin, 
what means the scratches on thy hands and arms ? 

And the last one said : “ Jarl, son of Olin, what is the 
blood of night-wanderers doing on thy step ? ” 

Then Jarl told them of all his adventures, and how 
things had gone ; and the three little men nodded 
their heads, and said to each other; “Jarl, son of 
Olin, is true and faithful. Surely we may trust him 


JARL THE NEATHERD 189 

and then they said, “ Jarl Olinson, we have a boon to 
ask of thee.” 

“ Thou art my guests,” answered Jarl. “ Tell me 
what thy boon is ; and if it is that which I may do, 
then will I grant it.” 

“ It is that which you may do,” they answered. “ We 
have a journey to go, and we want to find place to 
leave our treasures. Jarl Olinson, wilt thou take care 
of them for us till we retimi ? ” 

“ That is a thing I may do,” answered Jarl readily. 
“ Thy boon is granted, oh my guests.” 

“Understand, Jarl,” they said, “we trust to you. 
No one is to have these our things, no matter who 
they may be. You are to part with them on no 
excuse ; you are to keep them with your life and 
with your sword.” 

“ Rest easy,” answered Jarl. “ If I promise, I will 
fulfil. On no account will I part with thy things, no 
matter who may ask me so to do. I pledge troth and 
word, and I will not break trust with you.” 

“ So be it,” the three old men answered. “ Jarl 
Olinson, we take your word, and we leave our treasures 
for you, to keep for us. Now farewell, and soon, 
perhaps, we shall meet again.” 

Then the three little old men went, and left their 
things with Jarl ; and the son of Olin laughed long and 
loud, for he thought the matter a fine joke. 

Yet for all that, Jarl Olinson took great care of the 
things which had been left by his three guests ; for he 
had pledged his word, and would keep it. 

Now this is how Jarl’s strange guests came to him, 
and left their treasures for Olin’s son to guard. 


190 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XVII 

HOW JARL, THE SON OF OLIN, KEPT HIS WORD 

N OW after the three strange old men had left 
their treasures with J arl he saw nothing more 
of them, nor did he hear any tidings of them ; and 
often did Olin, his father, say to him — 

“ Jarl, my son, why keep that old armour still ? 
Be sure those three poor old men have died, and they 
will never come back for their things. Why keep them, 
and that useless old pony, which only eats good corn 
that better steeds should have ? ” 

But Jarl made answer to his father — 

“ O, my father ! the things make no trouble, and 
the pony eats but little ; but were it otherwise, still 
my word has been given, and my word must be kept, 
even though the promise was made to poor old men 
who may now have gone to the stormland.” 

So Jarl kept these things and thought no more 
about the matter ; but the people who knew not the 
story, would laugh as they looked at the old pony, 
and ask — 

“ Is the under-jarl keeping that brave war-horse 
for his own use, we wonder ; or will he offer it as a 
gift to the king. Red Olaf ? ” 

And all this time Lady Gunhilda the Fair, waited 
for a message, yet none came ; for the fades move 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


191 

slowly, and do not hurry things, as impatient mortals 
do. 

But the message came at last, for so all things come 
in their time, be they of good or ill ; and Lady Gunhilda 
the Fair knew that it was now for her to act. 

It was just when they were thinking of giving a 
great feast at the castle ; for it was nigh the time of 
Droma of the Golden Hair’s birthday ; and to this 
feast all were bidden, high and low, great and small ; 
and both Red Olaf, the king, and White Olaf, the 
prince, were to be there. 

And one evening as Gunhilda sat in her chamber she 
heard her name called ; and there she saw Crawilla, 
looking just as she had done when last she appeared 
to the wife of the Jarl. 

So Gunhilda opened her window wide, and bade the 
fairy enter, and her heart was right glad ; for now she 
thought Jarl should be shamed, and Droma would 
choose the White Olaf for her lover. 

“ Am I welcome. Lady Gunhilda the Fair ? ” asked 
Crawilla as she stood on the casement-sill. “If I am 
not, I may not enter.” 

“ Thou art welcome, and welcome again,” answered 
Gunhilda. “ Each day I have looked for thy coming, 
fairy, that I might see Jarl the son of Olin brought to 
shame. Thou hast tarried long, fairy.” 

“ Only that I might work surely. Lady Gunhilda,” 
was the reply. “Now the time has come and all is 
ready, and we will see if this thrall and thrall’s son 
shall become the husband of the beauteous Droma. 
I have done my part ; do you do yours. Lady Gun- 
hilda.” 

“ Have no fear, fairy ; I will do my part, be it what 


THE SAGA OF 


192 

it may,” was the promise of Gunhilda ; and, fair though 
she was, her heart was so full of anger towards Jarl, 
that indeed she felt ready to do anything, no matter 
what it might be. 

So Crawilla told her what must be done, and Gunhilda 
promised to obey ; and then the wicked witch flew off 
on the storm clouds, and went to Red Sweth to tell 
him that all was going well, and that Jarl, the son of 
Olin, would soon be landless and nameless man again. 

Then came the days of the feast ; and the freemen 
and warriors of Norway came to Hilderbrand’s castle to 
cry Wes hael to Droma the beautiful ; and the king and 
prince were there ; and also came Jarl and his parents ; 
and though Droma smiled on all her father’s guests, 
she smiled on none so sweetly as she did on Jarl, the son 
of Olin ; and many a jarl and freeman sighed and 
thought — 

“ Would that I were Jarl Olinson, that I might have 
the love of Golden Haired Droma ! ” 

And many were the gifts and offerings that were 
brought to her ; and though there were many more 
valuable than Jarl’s, yet she liked his most, for ’twas 
a cloak made from the skin of the werewolf, and 
bordered with silver. 

And some who envied Jarl tried to laugh and shame 
him ; and tliey said : “ Truly, Jarl Olinson, the thrall’s 
son and the neatherd, brings strange gifts to his lady, 
seeing ’tis but the skin of a werewolf, which has cost 
him nothing in the getting.” 

But when Jarl heard this he rose and spoke, and 
answered : “ Oh ! it is true I have but brought the 
Lady Droma a cloak of wolf -skin which costs but little 
in the getting ; for I could not give unto her any gift 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


193 


that were worthy of her taking. All that I have, even 
to my life, is at her disposal ; for with the cloak I give 
all else, as for the cloak I risked my life when I was 
but a child ; and what can man give more than this ? ” 

And Droma bade her maids take off her other cloak, 
and she had the wolf -skin fastened to her shoulders, and 
wore it at the feast in sight of all men ; and old 
Hilderbrand laughed and pulled his beard, and 
whispered that what the fairies wrote in the runes 
must come to pass, let men do as they list to hinder it. 

Then, after the feasting, the skalds came to sing, and 
men sat and listened, and they drank their wine and 
their nut-brown ale, while the songs of Droma and of 
Jarl, of Hilderbrand and Gunhilda, and of Red 
Olaf and White Olaf, were sung to them. 

Then, when the skalds rested, Gunhilda turned to 
the son of Olin and spoke to him in soft tones — for 
she had done as Crawilla had bidden her, and been 
very gracious to the neatherd who was now under-jarl. 

“ O, Jarl, son of Olin ! ” she said, “ we are 
weary of the skalds’ singing now, and we want you to 
amuse us ; ” but Jarl answered — 

“ Truly, Lady Gunhilda the Fair, I know not how 
to do such a task as that ; for I have never done great 
deeds to tell of, like as Hilderbrand, thy husband, and 
our lord ; it were far better for him to tell us his tales.” 

“ Nay, nay ! ” answered Lady Gunhilda, with a 
smile ; “ thou art too modest, Jarl. Now thou shalt 
tell to us the funniest thing that has befallen you ; 
and also why thou dost keep that old lame and blind 
pony eating up thy com, when it can be of no use to 
any man.” 

Then Jarl laughed heartily, for indeed the story 

N 


194 


THE SAGA OF 


was funny, and he told all about the three old beggars 
and their precious gifts ; so that all there laughed. 

Only White Olaf did not laugh ; for he, like Jarl, 
reverenced old age ; and he pitied the poor foolish old 
men who thought these old things were precious. 

Then Gunhilda spoke again ; and she said, so that all 
could hear — 

“ Oh ! Jarl Olinson, I have a boon to ask of thee,” 
and at this Hilderbrand opened wide his eyes ; for 
truly this was strange that his wife should deign to 
ask boon of Jarl Olinson. 

But Jarl bowed his head to Gunhilda, and answered — 

“ Lady Gunhilda does me more honour than I have 
ever deserved, when she asks boon of me. Nor need 
I say that whatsoever it is, I will do her bidding if it 
may be done.” 

“ How ! ” cried Red Olaf. “ J arl Olinson, thou art no 
true man to put such an ending to thy speech ! First, 
be it what it might, thou shouldst attempt it ; and 
secondly, the Lady Gunhilda would not ask that 
which might not be done.” 

“ King,” answered Jarl. “ No man should promise 
that which afterwards he might not wish to perform. 
Let the Lady Gunhilda tell me her boon ; and then 
see if Jarl Olinson shall be slow in answering to her 
request.” 

Then Gunhilda laughed merrily, as if she only spoke 
in jest. 

“ Oh, Jarl I ’tis nothing serious,” she replied, “ and 
thou canst easily grant it. Even now thou hast said 
that with thy wolf -skin thou hastgiven all else that is 
thine to Droma, my daughter ; so I must perforce ask 
thee for something which is not thine ; and which, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


195 


moreover, is no man’s. Thou hast said that it is like 
that these old men have died, since thou hast heard 
no more of them.” 

“ It is most like. Lady Gunhilda,” answered Jarl. 

“ Then this is my request. Give me, thy Jarl’s lady, 
these strange things ; that I may keep them here — 
this old pony, and these weapons. Give me these, 
and prove to me thy friendship.” 

Now at first Jarl was going to say yes to this *, for 
indeed he did not think that he would ever see the 
old men again ; but just as he was going to speak, 
the fairy shoe Duty pinched his foot ; and he paused, 
looking troubled. Then he raised his head and made 
reply— 

“Now truly, Lady Gunhilda, thou hast troubled me 
and made me sad ; for thou hast asked me the one 
thing I cannot do : ask what else you w’ill and it is 
thine ; but ask me this thing no more. My word was 
given to these old men, and my word must be kept.” 

At this White Olaf nodded, and Droma nodded too; 
but her heart was troubled, for she saw mischief here. 

But Lady Gunhilda rose, looking scornful and proud, 
and she said — 

“ Am I to understand that my boon is refused, 
Jarl Olinson ? ” 

“ It cannot be granted. Lady Gunhilda ; for these 
things are not mine to bestow.” 

Then Lady Gunhilda laughed scornfully and cried — 

“ Truly it serves me right ! I have descended to 
ask a boon of the man who has worn thrall-collar of 
my husband’s ; of the man who has been raised too 
high in favour ; and he has refused me. I am shamed 
in the sight of all men for my folly ! ” 


THE SAGA OF 


196 

Then did Jarl Hilderbrand pull his beard and look, 
for he was in much doubt. If Jarl had given his word 
it was right he should keep it ; and yet what a little 
thing this was to make trouble about ! If the men 
were dead, there the matter would end and the things 
might be given. If they were alive and came back, 
they could be given gold for their things ; and that 
would surely satisfy them, so he thought. 

“ Jarl, son of Olin,” he said, “ a man should keep 
his word ; yet methinks in this case thou art over 
scrupulous, and it was ill to put the Lady Gunhilda to 
shame and to openly refuse her boon. Give unto her 
this rubbish that she asks for, and prove thyself true, 
and friend to me and mine.” 

“ Now,” thought Jarl, “ that speech means that 
Droma shall be mine if I do this thing ; and truly it 
is a little thing to do, and foolish to refuse ; ” but then 
the shoe pinched him worse than ever. 

“ Now,” he thought again, “ I cannot make Gun- 
hilda my enemy, after she has turned to be my friend. 
I will kick this troublesome shoe off, just for once 
but even while he was thinking, Droma spoke to him. 

“ Jarl,” she said, “ I have a question to ask thee 
before thou dost speak again ; ” and Jarl said, “ Ask 
thy question, Droma of the Golden Hair.” 

“Jarl, dost thou remember when I came to give 
thy men their harvest drink ? ” she asked ; and Jarl 
answered that he did. 

Then said Droma : “ And dost thou remembei 

a promise that thou didst make to me ? for that 
promise thou must keep, Jarl, son of Olin.” 

Then Jarl remembered the promise, even to the 
very words : that he would never do aught wrong. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


197 


even to win Droma, and that he would be true to his 
promise to all men, be they rich or poor. And he 
understood why Droma had spoken, and how she 
wished him to be true to his promise to these old 
men, no matter what else might happen. 

Now none knew but they themselves of what Droma 
spoke ; but they thought it was some promise to do 
all in his power to show his love, and they thought 
that Droma was bidding him do as her mother desired 
and that Jarl would be sure now to so do. 

Then Jarl answered Hilderbrand ; and all men 
listened to hear his speech. 

“Jarl and lord,” he said. “To his word must a* 
man be true, even in spite of all. I will not part with 
these things which have been given to me by these old 
men ; nay, not even to prove my friendship to thee and 
thine.” • 

Now while Hilderbrand was a just man, yet he was 
hasty ; and his face grew dark and his hand sought the 
hilt of his sword ; yet Jarl was his guest, so he had to 
conquer his temper, but he said coldly — 

“ It is well, Jarl Olinson. Once it was mine to 
command and thou hadst to obey. Now I ask as 
friend and brother, and thou dost refuse. It is well, 
Jarl Olinson.” 

But Red Olaf cried — 

“ It is not well, Jarl Hilderbrand. If this under- 
jarl is not thy servant now, yet still he is mine, and I 
have a right to command. Hark, Jarl Olinson, I, thy 
king, bid thee obey the wish of the Lady Gunhilda.” 

“ That thou hast no right to do, O Red Olaf,” 
answered Jarl boldly. “ All that is mine, even to my 
life, thou hast right to command ; but not that which 


THE SAGA OF 


198 

is another’s, and not that which is to the hurt of mine 
honour ; for that is not thine, but mine own, and none 
have a right to it.” 

“ Dost thou dare argue with me, Jarl Olinson ? ” 
cried the king; and Jarl said: “Aye, I dare that, O 
Red Olaf.” 

“ My father, the king,” cried Prince Olaf the White, 
earnestly. “ Shall the skalds ever have to sing that 
thou wast unjust, and that Jarl Olinson was in the 
right to disobey thee ? How can a man break his 
word of honour, even if it is spoken to a beggar ? ” 

“ Silence, White Olaf, and stand not between me 
and my vassal,” cried the king in a fierce rage. “ So 
thou wilt disobey me, Jarl Olinson ? ” And Jarl said — 

“ I will disobey thee. Red Olaf.” 

Now at this all men looked troubled ; for here was 
a strange thing which had happened at Droma’s birth- 
day feast, when all were bright, and none expecting 
trouble ; and the king rose and took his great axe and 
strode towards Jarl, so that Droma cried out in fear, 
for she thought her love would now be slain : but 
Gunhilda cried — 

“ Oh, Red Olaf ! you do me too much honour. My 
husband and friends sit and see me shamed, and raise 
no weapon ; but thou wilt slay the man who has so 
humbled me ; and the skalds shall ever sing how Red 
Olaf defended his subjects.” 

Never a hand moved Jarl ; he only raised his head 
and glanced proudly at the king ; but others there 
moved to hinder Red Olaf. 

Olin rose, and his spear was never far from his hand, 
and he cried aloud — 

“ Jarl Hilderbrand ! If the king seeks to harm my 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


199 

son while he is your guest, then must he speak with 
my spear also.” 

The White Olaf also ran between bis father and 
Jarl, so that the king could not strike ; while Hilder- 
brand himself held his great blade as a shield before 
Jarl, and said to the king — 

“ My lord the king, this man is my guest and his life 
is in my hands. He must not have harm done unto 
him, even by Red Olaf the king, while he is in my halls.” 

But Jarl said calmly — 

“ Oh ! Hilderbrand, lord and jarl, you need not 
stand between me and the king, for he cannot harm 
me. 

“ How ? ” shouted Red Olaf, more angry than ever. 

“ He cannot hurt me, because he is the king, and 
because he must do me justice; and to the king’s 
justice I appeal now, even against the king’s anger.” 

“ It is well spoken,” cried those around, who were 
sorry to see this trouble at the feast. “ It is well 
spoken. Let the king be just.” 

Then Red Olaf conquered his anger, and he made 
reply — 

“ It shall be so, Jarl Olinson. To-morrow I will 
have search made through the kingdom ; and if these 
men be found, well ; but if not, then do I command 
thee to deliver up these things to me, that I may give 
them to Gunhilda the Fair, according to her wish.” 

“ That I may not do, O king ! While my life lasts 
I will keep these things ; and thou dost know in thine 
heart that it is not justice which thou art seeking to 
do, but favour to Lady Gunhilda the Fair. If need 
be, I will cry to all the freemen of Norroway to witness 
that my cause is just, and to all the minstrels to sing 


200 


THE SAGA OF 


how the Red Olaf decreed that which was unworthy.” 

“ Silence,” shouted the king. “ Thou hast heard 
my word — I will give one week for this search ; and 
if it is imsuccessful, then as I have said it shall be. 
Now go thou to thine own home, for thy presence here 
is evil ” 

“ Hilderbrand, my father,” cried Droma quickly, 
“this is my feast, and this is thy castle, and Jarl 
Olinson, who keeps his word, is thy guest. Is he to be 
thus shamed and turned from the feast, even at the 
king’s bidding ? ” 

Now Hilderbrand knew not how to answer, for he 
was sore perplexed. 

He liked Jarl for keeping his word, but was angry 
with him for shaming Gunhilda. He was angry with 
Gunhilda for making the request, yet he was pleased 
that she was angered at its refusal. He was angered 
at Red Olaf ordering his guest away, for even the king 
had no right to do that, yet he was glad that Jarl 
should go ; and besides, he desired not to seem against 
the king. 

Then Jarl did not wait for him to answer, but he 
said — 

“ Oh, Lady Droma ! thou hast asked a hard thing of 
thy father, and one that is best left unanswered. Now 
this is my word, I go even as the king commands.” 

Then ^ the people cried that Jarl Olinson was wise 
in what he did ; and Jarl rose and walked away. 

But now the feasting was all marred, for Droma cared 
no longer to stay, and the White Olaf was sad, and all 
men seemed troubled. 

But Lady Gunhilda was troubled most of all ; for 
instead of Jarl being humbled, he seemed to have 


201 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

gained honour ; for the true men there said it was 
not well that a man should break his troth and tryst, 
even at the word of a woman ; and they said that 
Lady Gunhilda had no right to have asked this thing, 
or to have been angered when it was refused. 

So Gunhilda was sore vexed ; yet still she was glad 
that she had made Jarl and Red Olaf enemies ; for she 
thought that Olaf would surely crush Jarl and put him 
to death ; and so she went to her room and waited to 
hear what more her fairy friend would bid her do. 

Now this is the way in which Jarl, son of Olin, 
refused the request of the Lady Gunhilda the Fair ; 
and how the joy-feast of Droma of the Golden Hair 
was interrupted. 


202 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XVIII 

HOW JARL OLNISON WAS MADE LANDLESS MAN 

R ed OLAF had said that he would have search 
made for one week, and that then, if the three 
old men were not found, he would compel Jarl to 
give up the things he held, in order that Lady Gun- 
hilda might have her boon granted. 

Now at this there was trouble in the land. Those 
who were JarPs foes, they cried right joyfully that 
Red 01 af was right, and that the king’s word must 
be obeyed; you see, they thought Jarl would fight 
and resist, and be slain, and that was what they wanted. 

But the true men said that this thing was not right, 
and must not be, and that it was not good that the 
land should be troubled because of the wish of Gun- 
hilda the Fair. 

And Jarl Hilderbrand himself thought this, and 
he went to Gunhilda and said, “ Sweet love, my lady, 
thou hast not done well in this thing ; for thou canst 
not want this little, when so much else is thine ; and it 
will bring trouble into the land.” 

So Gunhilda called for Crawilla and told her of this, 
and Crawilla laughed. 

“ Lady Gunhilda,” she said. Thy whole hand is 
not as strong as the Jarl’s finger, yet thou hast more 
power in thy finger than he has in his hand. Thy fair 


JARL THE NEATHERD 203 

tresses are fine as spider’s web, yet thou canst bind thy 
lord with them and have thy will.” 

Then Gunhilda answered Crawilla, “ Oh fairy, read 
me thy riddle,” and Crawilla held up a stone that had 
a hole pierced right through it. 

“ Lady Gunhilda,” she said, “ tell me how came the 
hole through this stone ? 

“ That is easily answered, fairy. The water has 
dripped upon it, and worn a hole through.” 

“ So let thy tears drip on Hilderbrand’s heart and 
will, and thou shalt have thy way. Weep sore that 
this shame is done thee ; refuse comfort till the things 
are thine. Fall sick and take no food, and cry aloud 
for Dromato entreat the son of Olin to do this thing, 
and Hilderbrand will be so wroth at last for the trouble, 
that he will be like to go against Jarl with fire and 
sword, without waiting for Red Olaf to help him.” 

So Gunhilda the Fair did as Crawilla bade her ; and 
she wept sore, and did not braid her hair, and she 
would have neither music nor singing ; and when 
Droma of the Golden Hair came to comfort her, Gun- 
hilda only said — 

“ Oh ! Droma, Droma, if thou canst not persuade 
Jarl, the son of Olin, to grant me my boon, then shall 
I die.” 

But Droma would not do this thing, and moreover 
she was not deceived, and she said to her mother — 

“ Oh, my lady mother, this thing which thou hast 
done is not good nor kind, and thou knowest in thine 
heart that thou hast done it to bring Jarl to shame; 
for thou didst know full well when thou didst ask 
thy boon that he would never do it. Nay more, 
mother, if Jarl is driven out, then also ought I to be. 


204 THE SAGA OF 

for I myself, in my speech, did bid him refuse to give 
thee thy wish.” 

Now at this Gunhilda the Fair became very angry, 
and she drove Droma from her presence, and ordered 
that she should see her no more ; moreover, she sent 
for Hilderbrand, and declared how that Jarl had 
turned the heart of Droma against her mother, so 
that she had spoken ill of her. 

The Jarl tried to comfort her ; but Gunhilda wept 
and lamented, and reproached him, till he knew not 
what to do. 

“ Droma must be punished for her words,” sobbed 
Gunhilda, “ for she also hath shamed me ! She 
must be shut up in the tower on the rock island, and 
kept there till she repents. Moreover, if Jarl, son 
of Olin, knows of this, he will humble himself, and 
give me that which I desire, rather than have Droma 
kept in the tower.” 

Now this troubled Jarl Hilderbrand, for he thought 
it ill to shut the beautiful Droma up, a prisoner in 
the old tower. But Gunhilda wept and wept, and 
at last her tears wore a hole through his heart, as 
Crawilla had said ; and he gave orders for Droma 
and her maids to be taken to the tower, till the Lady 
Gunhilda should be willing for her to be let out again. 

Then he went to Jarl Olinson, and he told him what 
had taken place, and he said — 

“ Now, Jarl Olinson, thou hast declared thy love 
for Droma, and thou dost desire her to be thy wife. 
Surely thou wilt not let her remain shut up in the 
rock tower, when by giving up this litter thou canst 
set her free and make all things right again.” 

But, alas ! Duty pinched Jarl, though he would 


JARL THE NEATHERD 205 

fain have done as Hilderbrand desired, and he had 
to sigh and reply — 

“ Oh ! Hilderbrand, lord and jarl, I may not do 
this thing, not even to free Droma from her prison. 
But thou art wrong in putting her there, yea, and 
thine own heart tells thee so. Now this I say, Jarl 
Hilderbrand, thou who hast been bravest in all Nor- 
roway in the war-time, art nithing now, for thou hast 
done this wrong thing because thou dost fear the 
tears and the tongue of the Lady Gunhilda.” 

Then did Hilderbrand get very angry ; the more 
so because this was quite true, and he called Jarl 
many hard names, and said that he would come with 
fire and sword and take that which he desired, and 
he said that Jarl should never see the Golden Haired 
Droma again, but that she should marry the White 
Olaf. 

But Jarl replied, and said to Hilderbrand — 

“ That thou canst not do, Hilderbrand. Thou 
canst not make White Olaf wed the love of his friend 
and brother, and thou canst not make Droma wed 
her lover’s friend. As for me, thou hast shut my 
love up in prison for nothing, and thou hast said that 
thou wilt come with fire and sword against me. Now 
take heed that I come not with fire and sword against 
thee, and break into the prison and take Droma away 
from thee, for this is in my mind and heart, and it 
may well be that next time we meet it will be to play 
the war-game.” 

Then loud laughed Hilderbrand, and he said — 

“ So said the field rat to the wolf, and the squirrel 
to the bear ! Thou art a boaster, Jarl Olinson.” 

And then he rode away ; but his heart kept saying 
to him — 


2o6 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Jarl Olinson is right, and thou art in the wrong,” 
and Hilderbrand liked not that message. 

Also to Jarl came the prince and reasoned with 
him, and asked if these gifts might not be given up, 
seeing that the men could not be found ; and Jarl 
told him how he had given his promise, and how he 
had also promised Droma that he would not be false 
to his word, let the end be what it might ; and he 
said — 

“ Prince and brother, there is some evil working 
here, of which I do not know. Some evil thing has 
put it into the heart of Gunhilda the Fair to ask for 
that which she knew I might not do.” 

“ Perhaps,” suggested White Olaf thoughtfully, 
“ perhaps the three old men were evil trolls, and 
only left these things to bring you to grief, knowing 
how you would keep your word.” 

Now when he had spoken, a voice cried from the 
woods — 

“What dost thou say to that, Jarl Olinson?” 
and a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder followed 
the question ; but Jarl answered — 

“ I say this in answer — ^Who or what these men 
were, I know not, good or bad. I gave them my word, 
and my word shall be kept, even though the king 
slay me.” 

Then did White Olaf go, sad at heart, and try to 
persuade Gunhilda the Fair to forego her demand ; 
but this Gunhilda would not do, the more so as she 
found the White Olaf pleaded not for himself, but 
for Jarl, and spake not of his own love, but of Jarl’s ; 
and when she reproached him with this, Olaf 
answered — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


207 


“ Lady Gunhilda, the truest love seeks not its own 
first. Droma and Jarl love each other, and I love 
them both ; therefore it is for them I labour, for who 
would be base enough to take advantage of a friend’s 
trouble, for his own gain ? ” 

But try as White Olaf would, he could do no good ; 
his father was determined, Hilderbrand was deter- 
mined, Gunhilda was determined, and Jarl was deter- 
mined, so all his labours were in vain ; and the days 
passed, and no tidings of the three old men were 
heard, and then Red Olaf, and Hilderbrand, and 
his other jarls sent for Jarl Olinson to come before 
the king, and give up the things which had been left 
with him. 

Well, Jarl went, and though his brow was sad, his 
heart was firm, and his shoes did not pinch now — 
Patience had been hurting his foot dreadfully for 
some days, but he had just kept on doing what Duty 
told him was right, and so now he felt no pain. 

And in Hilderbrand’s great hall all the jarls sat, and 
Red Olaf and Hilderbrand in the midst ; and Lady 
Gunhilda the Fair came, an evil smile on her lips ; but 
Gunhilda was not to have quite a triumph, for when 
Hilderbrand saw her come, he rose and said — 

“ Sweet love, my lady, this is no scene for you ; 
therefore go to thy chamber with thy maidens till 
our business is done,” and though he spoke very 
gently, Gunhilda could tell that he was angered be- 
cause she had come, and she did not dare disobey 
him. 

Then Red Olaf turned to Jarl, and said to him — 
“ Jarl Olinson, I have kept my word, and sent 
north and south and east and west through all my 


2o8 


THE SAGA OF 


kingdom, but no tidings can I learn of these three 
old men. Now therefore I call upon thee to obey 
my command, and to render to me the things which 
they left with thee, for they are not thine.” 

“ Therefore, Red Olaf,” was the quick reply, “ thou, 
being king, shouldst know that I cannot do this thing 
which thou hast asked of me. They are not mine, 
thou hast said. How then can I give thee that which 
is not mine ? ” 

Now at this Red Olaf smote his fist on the table, 
and he cried — 

“ Thou rascal ; wilt thou bandy words with me ! ” 

“ Nay,” answered Jarl, “ that is woman’s work. 
Thou hast asked me to do what which I may not do, 
and thou art surrounded by the best warriors of Nor- 
roway, while I am alone. Yet my answer is short, 
O king — I will not do this thing, do thou what thou 
mayest.” 

At this all the jarls were silent, for though they 
were pledged to the king, they knew Jarl was right, 
and they loved the hero soul and the brave man, and 
surely they thought that Jarl was both, to thus brave 
the king’s anger. And Red Olaf’s hand went to his 
belt, and he drew his dagger as if he would strike 
Jarl down ; but he recovered himself, and said — 

“ Dost thou know that the Lady Droma is -kept 
in prison because thou art so stubborn, and thou 
sayest that thou dost love her ! ” 

“ I know the Lady Droma is kept in prison because 
Hilderbrand her father is frightened of Lady Gun- 
hilda’s tongue ; and he is her father, and says he loves 
her,” was the calm answer, and at this Hilderbrand 
looked very angry, and some there smiled, for all 


JARL THE NEATHERD 209 

knew that Gunhilda the Fair could scold when she. 
liked so to do. 

But Red Olaf was not minded to make much talk, 
for that was not his way, so he said — 

“ Wilt thou do this, or die, Jarl Olinson ? ” 

“A good choice, O king,” laughed Jarl. “Well, 
I will tell thee — I will not do this ; and if I must 
die, it shall be with my good sword in hand and my 
back to the wall.” 

“ Thou wilt resist 1 ” said the king, and Jarl an- 
swered — 

“ Even so, if need be ; but before I act, I speak 
to the jarls of Norroway, and I say: As your hearts 
are true, let your lips be true, and tell me, is this thing 
just that the king does ? ” 

Then there was silence for a moment ; and then, 
to the surprise of all, Jarl Hilderbrand rose in his 
place, and said in his deep voice — 

“ I, as oldest jarl in Norroway, will answer thee 
first, Jarl Olinson — the thing which the king seeks 
to do is not just.” 

“Skoal to Jarl Hilderbrand!” cried all the others. 
“ The thing is well spoken ! Red Olaf is not just 
in this.” 

Then Red Olaf looked black with anger, but he 
said to Jarl Hilderbrand — 

“ Hilderbrand, lord and jarl, thou as oldest shalt 
again speak first. What shall be done to this man ? ” 

“ As Red Olaf shall say,” was the reply. “ Only 
his life shall not be touched, and the things which 
were given to him by the three old men, he shall keep 
according to his promise. So shall honour be kept 
in Norroway.” 


0 


210 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Skoal to Hilderbrand ! ” again cried the other 
jarls. “ His words are good, O Red Olaf.” 

“ So be it, jarls all,” answered the king sternly. 
“ Jarl Olinson shalt indeed have his life ; and the 
things he so guards, these shall he have ; but nothing 
more. Listen, Jarl Olinson, this is my word. Thou 
art landless man, nameless man, and outlaw from 
this moment, and the hands of all men may be lifted 
against thee. Thou shalt go forth from thy house 
and take the things thou hast guarded, these and no 
more. Then shalt thy house be given to the flames, 
and thy land shall be spoilt, and thy name shall no 
more be mentioned in the songs of Norroway. Go 
— I have spoken.” 

“ And it is a hard thing thou hast spoken. Red 
Olaf,” answered Jarl bitterly. “ Truly thou hast 
left me my life, but for any other to take if they list. 
Well, Olaf, I have thought to fight for thee ; but a 
man must live, and if thou dost send me to vikings 
and berserkers again, thine the blame, not mine, if 
mischief come of it. Farewell, Hilderbrand, and 
all of you. Jarl has no name now, and is. landless 
man, but Jarl has this treasure, and none can take 
it from him : he has kept his word, and he has kept 
his troth ; and his honour is clean, and his heart 
true.” 

Just for a moment they were all silent 'as he passed 
out, for they knew not what to say, so terrible did 
the king’s sentence seem ; but when at last poor 
Jarl reached the gate of the courtyard, and they 
understood how much he was giving up to keep his 
word, suddenly all the great swords flashed out, and 
all the proudest warriors of Norroway sprang to their 
feet, and they cried aloud — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 211 

“ Skoal to the nameless one ! Skoal to the landless 
one ! Skoal to him who is truest man in Norroway ! ” 



Now this is how Jarl, the son of Olin, was made 
landless man and outlaw. 


212 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XIX 

HOW THE THREE TROLL PRINCES APPEARED TO JARL 

N OWJarl went back to his house, and his heart 
was very, very sad, for it seemed to him that 
all things were lost to him ; Droma was lost, and 
name was lost, and land was lost, and the friendship 
of Hilderbrand, this also was gone. 

Sometimes he thought, that, after all, Vryda had not 
been his friend ; yet he remembered how the fairies 
had smiled upon Droma and him, and how the pipes 
he had made had sung to him ; and somehow, even in 
all his trouble, he was comforted, and felt that one 
day all things would come right, and that the Droma 
he loved so much should be his wife ; though how that 
would come to pass now he could not tell. 

One thing troubled him, and that was that he had 
no way of seeing Droma and bidding her farewell 
before he set out ; and one other thing was that now 
his father and mother must go back to their humble 
dwelling, for his house was to be given to the flames. 

But this, Olin and Elsper did not mind. What 
grieved them was that they would be called to part 
from their Jarl; for since he was nameless man and 
outlaw, he must flee away, lest people should slay him. 

“The king is unjust, Jarl,” said Olin sternly; 
“yet methinks thou hast been very foolish in this, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


213 


for who are these three nameless beggars, that 
thou shouldst lose all thou hast hoped for, just to 
keep their litter ? ” 

“ They are three to whom I gave my word, father,” 
answered Jarl, “ therefore they are three to whom I 
must keep my word, and this I have done. Blame 
not them, and blame not me. And now for the rest. 
Thou must take all that is thine and my mother’s 
back to thy old home ; and thou must take all the 
money and the golden bracelets and rings, so that 
thou shalt have plenty for thine old age.” 

“ But what of you, dear son ? ” sobbed Elsper, and 
Jarl smiled and said — 

“ Come, mother, do not weep thus. I shall have 
my good sword, and my stout arm, and if Norroway 
will not have me fight for her, there are others across 
the waves who love brave hearts and good swords, 
and to them will I go.” 

“ Go not yet, Jarl,” said a voice, and there, once 
more, stood Vryda, and she smiled and looked quite 
happy. 

“ Ah ! Vryda, is it thou ? ” he said sadly. “ Well, 
I have tried to follow the advice of thy shoes, but 
they have brought me to a sore strait now, and all 
my hopes seem to be vain ones.” 

“Come, Jarl, do not be so despondent,” answered 
Vryda the Wise. “ Thou hast done nobly, far more 
than even I expected that thou wouldst do, and thou 
art defeating thine enemies and the enemies of Droma, 
and bringing nearer all that thy heart desires.” 

“Why, truly, Vryda,” answered Jarl, with a smile, 
“it is good for me to hear those tidings, for truly 
all things seem to be lost to me, and my foes to have 


214 


THE SAGA OF 


conquered. Dost thou know that I am again name- 
less man and landless, and outlaw as well ? ” 

“ All this I know, Jarl, and yet I say all goes well. 
Trust and wait, for the fairies are working for you, 
and the crystal runes have been written that may 
never be rubbed out. Now hsten. Take the gift- 
things thou hast guarded so well, and go thou deep 
into the heart of the forest — the red deer will show 
thee the way — and there tarry ; but go not out of 
Norroway till I give thee leave. Wilt thou obey me ? ” 

“ Indeed I will, Vryda, for I trust thee. Come, 
mother, kiss me and dry your tears ; and you, father, 
look not so sorrowful. Vryda has never deceived us 
yet, and while she is our friend all will be well.” 

“ That is little use unless thou art friend to thyself, 
Jarl,” said Vryda, “and thou art that now. All is 
never lost while the heart is true and the faith un- 
broken. Now take thy things and go, and I will help 
Olin and Elsper.” 

So Jarl went into the house and picked up the old 
shield and armour and lance, and he whistled to the 
poor old pony, and it came hobbling along after him, 
and so he walked away towards the forest ; and the 
only other thing he took was the great sword which 
he had won from Harold Wolfang, for this was his 
own, and no other had right to it. 

And when he came to the forest there waited a 
great red deer, and the deer said, “Follow me, Jarl 
the Nameless,” and started off into the forest depths, 
where Jarl might rest quite safely, and no man would 
find him. 

And then Vryda commanded the good trolls to 
take all Olin’s and Elsper ’s possessions, and carry 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


215 


them back to their old home, before Red Olaf should 
come to burn the house down, as he had said he would 
do. 

But about Olaf and how the house was burnt we 
cannot talk now, for we must go with Jarl right into 
the depths of the forest, and see what happened to 
him there, and how he found that Vryda’s words were 
true words, and that all was working for the best. 

On and on the red deer went, and Jarl followed 
behind him, the poor old pony coming last, and ever 
and again rubbing its nose on Jaii’s shoulder, as if 
to say — 

“ Don’t fret, Jarl ; don’t worry, Jarl ; I know 
what a lot of trouble you have found, just for being 
faithful and kind ; but don’t you worry, Jarl, and 
it will all soon come right.” 

At least, that is what Jarl thought the pony was 
saying, and somehow that made him feel better. 

Well, presently the red deer stopped, and said 
to Jarl — 

“ This is where you are to stay for the time. In 
this cave you can sleep, for it is dry and warm. From 
this brook you can drink, and your food shall be 
brought to you. See, some is ready now.” 

Jarl rubbed his eyes in surprise, and in spite of his 
trouble he nearly ' laughed, for there were a lot of 
forest animals all busy getting dinner ready for him. 

There were two squirrels who were getting fruit 
and nuts ready, and two wild birds helping them ; 
and two rabbits were getting the vegetables, and an 
old boar was busy digging up roots for him ; and a 
kite had brought a fine wild duck which he had just 
caught, and an otter had brought a big fish ; and 


2i6 


THE SAGA OF 


two hares were busy laying the tables, and setting 
bunches of wild flowers to make it look nice. 

“ Well, well,” thought Jarl, “ I have had many 
servants wait upon me since I was under- jarl, but 
never such queer servants as these,” and he sat there 
under the shade of the great trees watching, till at 
last all was ready, and then the little pony said — 

“ Now, Jarl, gift for gift. You have fed me, now 
I and my friends here will feed you. Jarl, sit down 
and eat.” 

Now Jarl was hungry, and he needed no second 
bidding, and he sat down and had a lovely dinner, 
while all the animals looked on, and the fairies stole 
from under the ferns, and, joining hands, danced 
round and round his table, singing all the time — 

Droma’s young, and Droma’s fair, 

Bluest eyes and golden hair — 

Fairies round the rocky-isle 
Guard sweet Droma all the while. 

Fairies in the forest dell. 

Guarding Droma’s Jarl as well. 

Now when Jarl had eaten his dinner he felt quite 
contented again. That is quite a usual thing, I find, 
when people have eaten their dinner. And he got 
a reed and fashioned a pipe, and played merry tunes 
for the fairies to dance to ; and the little folk seemed 
to quite enjoy it, and laughed and capered till they 
looked like a lot of little butterflies flitting this way 
and that ; and then suddenly a sharp voice called 
out — 

“ Work-time has come ! ” and aU the fairies scam- 
pered off, leaving Jarl quite alone to wonder what the 
fairies’ work could possibly be. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


217 


And as he sat there he heard some one coming 
along pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, with a sort of hop, and 
skip, and jump, and looking up he saw — ^yes, there 
was no doubt about it — there was the first of the three 
strange little old men coming through the forest 
glades towards him ! 

“ Why, there is your master,” he cried to the old 
pony, and the pony nodded, and answered calmly — 



“three strange little old men.” 


“Yes, I expected he would come to meet us 
here.” 

Then behind the first old man he spied the second 
coming, and behind the second came the third — the 
three old men for whom the Red Olaf had searched 
in vain all over the kingdom of Norroway, and here 
they were in the very heart of the forest, coming to 
Jarl for the things he had promised to mind for them. 


2i8 the saga of 

And when they got up to him they all stood in a row, 
and they said — 

“ Greeting, Jarl Olinson ! ” And he replied — 

“ Greeting, little fathers.” 

Then they said to him — 

“Jarl, we have come for our precious things — ^we 
hope you have got them all safe.” 

“ I have them all safe,” he answered, and he laid 
them all on the ground — that is, all except the pony, 
of course ; that laid itself on the ground. 

“ That is good,” said the little old men. “ You 
have kept your charge well. But why are you here 
instead of in your own house ? ” 

“ Because your precious things have cost me dear, 
little fathers,” he said, and he told them how things 
had happened with him, and the three little men 
said one to the other — 

“ Dear ! dear ! That is very bad ! Why did you 
not give them up, Jarl ? ” 

“ Because my word was given to you,” he an- 
swered. 

“ So, Jarl, you gave up everything to keep your 
word. Is that so ? ” 

“That is so,” answered Jarl. 

Then the first little man said — 

“ Jarl, you may keep my pony.” 

And the second said — 

“ Jarl, you may keep my shield.” 

And the third said — 

“ Jarl, you may keep my lance and armour.” 

“ Many thanks, little fathers, but I fear these things 
are little use to me. Had you given them to me a 
short time ago, I would have bestowed them on Gun- 


219 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

hilda as she desired, and so have saved all this 
trouble ; but now that is too late, and I am name- 
less man, so what shall I do with your gifts ? ” 
“You shall find them the most precious gifts that 
ever you had, Jarl,” was the answer of the first old 
man. 

“ They shall win you Droma of the Golden Hair,” 
put in the second old man. 

“ And make you the first Jarl of all Norroway,” 
added the third ; and then they said all together — 

“ They are the most precious arms in all the world, 
and we are not poor old men as you think. These 
are the tryst weapons, and we are the three troll princes.^^ 
As these words were uttered there was a blinding 
flash of lightning and a crash of thunder which almost 
dazed Jarl, and when he looked round again the three 
old men were gone, and in their places stood three 
dreadful-looking beings — dreadful, because they looked 
so stern and grand, not because they were ugly. 

They were dressed all in silver blue, and their long 
curling hair fell to their shoulders, and Jarl needed 
not to look twice to see they must be very powerful 
and noble trolls indeed. 

Then the first one said in deep tones, which, though 
they were stern, were kind and musical — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, I am Strallo, chief prince of the 
trolls, and to you I give the fairy horse Windswift. 
Behold him.” 

Then Jarl rubbed his eyes, for that poor blind 
and lame pony was the most beautiful horse he had 
ever seen. It was pure white, and its mane and tail 
nearly touched the ground, and were soft and fine as 
silk, and it was ready saddled for riding. 


220 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Windswift will go anywhere,” said Strallo, “ and 
the wind will not move so fast, and the arrow will not 
fly as sure. This is my gift to thee, Jarl, son of Olin.” 

Then the second one spoke and said— 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, I am Strello, the second of all 
the troll princes, and to thee I give my shield, for 
when that covers thee, no weapon that has ever been 
made shall wound thee. No blow shall harm, though 
it be struck by Ulf the Giant himself. Take my gift, 
Jarl, son of Olin.” 

And then Jarl saw that that old broken shield had 
become a beautiful new one, that gleamed like a plate 
of silver. 

And now the third troll prince spoke and said — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, I am StroUo, the third of all the 
troll princes, and to you I give my lance and armour — 
the last of the tryst gifts which you have earned by 
your faith and truth. No foe shall overthrow him 
who wears that armour, no enemy withstand him 
who wields that lance. Take my gift, Jarl.” 

And that old suit of armour was one of the most 
beautiful that ever had been made — more beautiful, 
indeed, for it was made by the mountain smiths deep 
down in the earth caves ; and the lance was so light 
and yet so strong that Jarl knew not which to admire 
most, the strength or the lightness. Then he an- 
swered and said — 

“ Unto you, O princes of the trolls, is my thanks 
for your gifts. I value them much — I value your 
friendship more.” 

“ Our friendship, Jarl, son of Olin, is for those who 
deserve it, and you have proved that you do that. 
Now when you have rested this night, put on thy 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


221 


war-gear and mount Windswift, and he will take 
thee where thou art to go for the time. For things 
are not ready yet, but soon will be, when thou shalt 
do man’s work such as few have ever done, and all 
Norroway shall ring with what Jarl, the son of Olin, 
has wrought.” 

Then there was another flash, another peal of 
thunder, the earth opened, and the three troll princes 
sank out of sight and left Jarl alone. 

Now that is how it came to pass that Jarl, the son 
of Olin, saw the troll princes, and received the tryst 
weapons and the fairy horse Windswift. 


222 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XX 

HOW RED OLAF SAW THE TROLL PRINCES 

N OW after Jarl had left the castle of Hilderbrand, 
King Olaf gave command that they should go 
to the outlaw’s house and bum it down. So the men 
went and they found it quite empty, for Olin and 
Elsper were gone, and Jarl as we know, had left. 

Then they piled a great heap of wood all round it 
and set it on fire ; and as it burned, they said one to 
another — 

“ What a strange man was Jarl, who is now land- 
less and nameless, that he should keep tryst with 
three old beggars, and lose all his wealth like this.” 

And Red Olaf came to see the burning, and with 
him came Hilderbrand and Gunhilda ; but White 
Olaf came not, for his heart was heavy for his friend 
and brother. 

And when they had seen the house burnt down and 
the gardens all trampled to pieces, they went back to 
the castle to their feasting ; but alas ! it was without 
joy now, for Jarl was gone, and Droma was in the 
tower, and in the hearts of all true men was the know- 
ledge that injustice had been done to one who could 
keep trust and tryst at all cost. 

Yet scarcely had they settled to the feast, when 
there came a messenger running with a strange tale, 
for he said that the house which they had burnt down 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


223 

was standing again as good as ever, and that all the 
gardens were laid out again and full of beauty. 

Now at first Olaf thought that this man must have 
drunk too deeply of the wine cup ; but he sent another 
to see, and this one came back and said that the tale 
was true. 

“ This must be witchcraft,” cried Olaf. “For surely, 
Jarl Hilderbrand, we saw the house given to the 
flames ; let us mount and away and fire it again. 
If others take the trouble to build, we may take the 
trouble to burn.” 

So once again they went to Jarl’s house, and there 
it was, only finer and better than ever. 

Then Olaf gave orders for it to be fired again ; and 
after he had seen this done, he rode away laughing 
and saying — 

“ Well, ’tis well burnt this time, Jarl Hilderbrand.” 

But scarcely had he got home, before there came 
tidings that once more the house was built up ; larger 
and better than before. 

Now at this Red Olaf grew very angry, and he 
commanded that soldiers should go and guard the 
place, and see that no man built it again, after it was 
once more burnt down. 

“ Shoot thy arrows at any you see, no matter who 
they may be,” he ordered, and for the third time they 
sat down to their feast ; and this time it was not 
interrupted. 

But in the morning, as soon as the king was awake 
he heard strange news. There, down in the court- 
yard, all beaten and bruised, were his soldiers ; — they 
who had never been vanquished by any foes yet ; — and 
they came to say that after Jarl’s house had been 


224 


THE SAGA OF 


burnt down, there came thousands of trolls and gnomes 
and built it up again swifter than man could move; 
and when the soldiers, obeying the king’s orders, had 
tried to hinder them, the little folk had set upon them 
and given them such a severe beating that the men 
were glad to run away as fast as they could ; and 
they declared that they would sooner go and face an 
army of berserkers than meet those dreadful httle fay 
folk again. 

Now at this Red Olaf took his great axe and called 
to his jarls and bade those who were bravest and who 
loved him, to follow him ; and he said — 

“ We will see which is the strongest — Red Olaf, King 
of Norroway, or the mountain trolls.” 

Now this time Jarl’s house was the most beautiful 
in the land — as big and grand as the palace itself — and 
once more Olaf commanded and they set the place on 
fire ; and while it was burning, there came a group 
of three little old men, so poor and so feeble that no 
one had any doubt that they were the three old men 
who had come to Jarl, and they cried out to the 
king— 

“ Oh, Red Olaf ! where is the man who promised 
to take care of our precious things ; and why are you 
burning down his house ? ” 

“ The man has gone I know not where,” cried Olaf. 
“ Nameless and landless has he gone, because I com- 
manded him to give up your things to me that I 
might give them to the Lady Gunhilda the Fair, who 
desired them. This he would not do, so we have 
sent him forth, and we have destroyed his house to 
teach all men obedience.” 

“But,” said the little old men, “how could Jarl 


JARL THE NEATHERD 225 

give them up, after he had promised to keep them for 
us ? He would have had to break his word.” 

“ What is that to me ? ” cried Red Olaf haughtily. 
“ I commanded and he should have obeyed.” 

“ He should not have obeyed,” said the first old 
man ; and the second said — 

“And the King should not have commanded, for 
that was unjust ; ” and the third said — 

“ The Lady Gunhilda is a plotter. She has desired 
the overthrow of Jarl, and it is with the witch Crawilla 
she has plotted ; even the witch who tried to destroy 
Droma of the Golden Hair when she was a babe.” 

Now at this all the warriors cried out ; some in 
anger that their lady should be spoken evil of ; some 
because they feared this thing w^as true. But Red 
Olaf was in a terrible rage now, and he commanded 
them to do a very dreadful thing, for he said that they 
were to take the three old men and throw them into 
the burning house and have them killed in that way. 

The poor old fellows pleaded for mercy. Jarl 
Hilderbrand turned away, for he liked not this work ; 
yet they had spoken shame of Gunhilda the Fair ; 
but some there seized the three, and dragging them 
to the burning house they thrust them in ; and then, 
as the flames touched them all the fire went out, and 
the house was better than the palace ; and there, at 
the door, were the three troll princes, looking so stern 
and terrible that all men there, even to the greatest, 
trembled and feared. 

And Red Olaf let his great axe fall and stood 
unarmed, his eyes fixed upon the three trolls, and his 
mouth half opened in terror. 

Thus they stood; and then White Olaf, who had 

p 


226 


THE SAGA OF 


come to see this strange burning and building of his 
friend and brother’s house, stepped between the 
princes and his father, so that he might defend the 
king if needful ; and Jarl Hilderbrand did the same. 

Now the troll princes saw this and nodded and 
smiled, and they said to the White Olaf — 

“ Fear not, Prince, friend of Jarl the nameless and 
outlaw. We desire to do the king no harm. Did we 
so, no might of your arm might prevail to hinder us ; 
so stand aside and let us speak with Red Olaf, King of 
Norroway.” 

“ Speak on,” said Red Olaf ; but those near noticed 
that now his voice shook and for the first time in his 
life, the king looked frightened. 

So the troll princes stepped to Red Olaf’s side and 
spoke with him — 

“ Now listen. Red Olaf, and you, Jarl Hilderbrand, 
and know it was to tempt Jarl, son of Olin, thatwe 
came as three old men and left our things with him.” 

“For this we were commanded to do by Crawilla, 
the wicked witch, and by Red Sweth, the warlock, 
and such a bidding we must obey. Had Jarl been false 
then would we have slain him ; but he was true, 
though for that truth he has been made nameless and 
landless, and thou hast driven away the wisest and 
bravest warrior of all the land. 

“ Also it is true that it was the witch Crawilla 
who tempted Lady Gunhilda to desire these things 
which we left with Jarl, knowing well that he would 
refuse, and hoping to bring about his shame thereby. 

“Now learn, Red Olaf, that war-time is coming 
into th}^ land, and fire and sword, and thou shalt long 
to have this same Jarl by thy side, when the foes are 


227 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

all round and thy life and thy crown are in peril.” 

“ Are there not brave men in Norroway besides 
Jarl, the son of a thrall ? ” cried Red Olaf scornfully ; 
but the troll princes answered — 

“Not enough ! Not enough, Red Olaf. And there 
are other perils coming, great and evil ; and thou 
shalt long for Jarl, son of Olin, to stand by to deliver 
you. Yea, and you also, Jarl Hilderbrand, who hast 
done that which thy heart told thee was not the 
right thing ; you too shall look and long for the 
strong arm and the stout heart of Jarl, the son of Olin, 
when the enemy are at thy gate, and when the red 
flames burst from the roof, and the sword sings its 
death-song in the courtyard ; then shalt thou also 
long for Jarl, the man who was thy neatherd.” 

But to this the old Jarl answered quietly — 

“ Princes of the trolls, I am more troubled that 
injustice has been done to Jarl Olinson than I am 
troubled that peril will come to me, for I am a warrior 
and have played the man’s game all my life, and have 
loved hard blows ; and when the last fight is fought, 
and the last game played, then will I die the man’s 
death and go to the stormland to feast. For that I 
care not ; but for the wrong done to this brave man 
I grieve, and that will I grieve for each day till it can 
be put right.” 

“And the first thing to do,” cried the White Olaf, 
“is to bring the Lady Droma with all honour from 
the tower.” 

“ That thou canst not do,” answered the oldest of 
the troll princes. “ Know that when under evil 
counsel thou didst put her there, thou didst deliver 
her into the hands of her foes. Harold Wolfang had 


228 


THE SAGA OF 


the witches and warlocks to aid him, and the beau- 
tiful Golden Haired Droma is stolen away.” 

Now at this terrible news Jarl Hilderbrand stag- 
gered and nearly fell, and all there set off as fast as 
they could speed down to the fiord where the Jarl’s 
war-ships lay ; and there, out in the mid-stream, 
was a small rocky islet, barren and dreary, and in the 
midst of it a grim-looking tower. Soon boats were 
launched, and Jarl Hilderbrand and the Red and 
White Olafs and other of the nobles of Norroway 
rowed hastily to the tower, and there at its gate was 
the sentry on watch ; and the jailor was in his place, 
and each said that nothing had happened to disturb 
them, but that Lady Droma was safely within with 
her maidens. 

So Hilderband commanded the jailer to bring 
Droma from her prison room with all speed, and then, 
alas ! they found how true the troll-brethren had 
been in their speech, for when the jailer opened the 
door, there lay all the maidens in a deep swoon, but 
the Lady Droma was not there. She was gone ; 
and that without a bolt or bar being disturbed — 
spirited away by wicked warlocks and witches, and 
no one could say where she now was. Oh, sorely, 
sorely did they grieve ; sorely did Lady Gunhilda the 
Fair mourn now when she learnt what the end of her 
scheming was ; sorely did Jarl Hilderbrand mourn. 
Alas ! Alas ! it was all in vain. Droma was gone 
and none knew whither ! 

White Olaf rode the whole country through to learn 
tidings, without avail. Red Olaf offered the second 
place in the kingdom to the one who should bring her 
back. Nobles, warriors, vikings, freemen and thralls 


JARL THE NEATHERD 229 

sought eagerly, yet they sought in vain. Droi la of 
the Golden Hair was gone ! 

They sought for the troll princes also, but they too 
were gone ; and none might find them ; and they 
sought all in vain for Jarl, the son of Olin, but he too 
was missing, and neither Elsper nor Olin could tell 
what had become of him. 

Then was all the land of Norroway in mourning 
and tears ; and then, just as the three troll princes 



THE COMING OF THE VIKINGS. 

had foretold, there came bitter news : for the Vikings 
from Juteland and the rovers from Denmark were 
coming all along the coast in their great war-ships ; 
and wherever they came there was fire and sword, 
and the weeping of the women, and the crying of the 
children ; and some said that it was because of the 
injustice which Olaf had done to Jarl the Neatherd, 
in driving away from his home Olin and Elsper, and 
in giving the place to the flames.” 


230 


THE SAGA OF 


Now this is how Red Olaf met the troll princes ; 
and how the Lady Droma could not be found ; and 
how tidings came that war-time was in the land, and 
the Vikings sailing over the seas. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


231 


CHAPTER XXI 

HOW DROMA THE GOLDEN HAIRED WAS STOLEN AWAY 

N OW we must see how it happened that Droma 
was not in the tower when Jarl Hilderbrand 
and Red Olaf went to look for her, and what it was 
that had happened to her. 

Well, you must know that when Crawilla, the 
witch, knew how Jarl Olinson had kept tryst with 
the three troll princes, and had refused to give up 
their weapons, she rushed off to the warlock’s house, 
in a dreadful state ; and when she got tnere Red 
Sweth was busy with his charms and spells, and 
Crawilla nearly startled all the wits out of him by 
crying out — 

“ Oh ! Red Sweth, Red Sweth, here is a nice state 
of things ! We shall surely get killed now. Red 
Sweth ! ” 

“ Good gracious me ! whatever has been and gone 
and happened, Crawilla ? ” answered Red Sweth, 
flopping down in dismay. Then he uttered a yell 
and flopped up again, for he had sat down in a great 
dish of boiling hot charms, which he had set on his 
<‘hair to cool. 

“ Oh ! Oo ! ! Oo — er ! ! ! ” he wailed, rubbing 
himself tenderly. “ Oh ! I do wish you would not come 
so suddenly with your startling news ! Now look 
what you have made me do ! My best wizard’s 


232 


THE SAGA OF 


robe ruined, all the charms spoilt, and me scalded 
like this ! Oo ! Oo — er ! ” 

“ Never mind about that. Red Sweth,” answered 
Crawilla. “ That don’t matter. It is worse things 
than that I have to talk about.” 

“ Then it must be bad,” said the warlock, “ for this 
is quite bad enough to satisfy me. However, tell me 
what it is, Crawilla.” 

“ Jarl Olinson has kept tvyst with the troll princes,” 
she answered, and Red Sweth said — 

“ Well, we said that very likely he would do so.” 

“ Yes,” answ'ered Crawilla, “ but we thought that 
in that case. Red Olaf would kill him.” 

“ Well,” Red Sweth cried. “ And he has done so, 
of course.” 

“ No, he hasn’t,” snapped Crawilla, “ and that is 
just the trouble ! He has outlawed him, but that 
is all.” 

“ But the king has taken the tryst weapons ? ” 
said the warlock anxiously. “I am sure he has done 
that ? ” 

“Then you are wrong,” said Crawilla. “Jarl has 
the tryst weapons, and the troll princes have appeared 
to him, and, well, you remember what they warned 
us of — that if Jarl kept tryst he would spifiicate us 
with the tryst weapons ; and I am quite sure that I 
don’t want to be spiflicated.” 

“ Neither do I,” answered Red Sweth, turning 
pale, “ being spiflicated is most trying to one’s health 
— quite painful indeed.” 

“ Well, what can we do ? ” cried Crawilla, wringing 
her hands. “It is all the fault of that stupid Hilder- 
brand.. Olaf would have killed Jarl if it had not been 


JARL THE NEATHERD 233 

for him interfering ! Now what shall we do, Red 
Sweth ? ” 

“ I shall take a ticket for somewhere else, and go 
by the next train,” said Red Sweth decidedly. “ I 
feel that I want a little change,” but Crawilla seized 
his own magic wand, and hit him a dreadful one on 
his bald pate with the heavy end. 

“ There, you great coward,” she cried in anger. 
“You will run away, will you, and leave me to be 
killed.” 

“ Well, there is no sense in our both staying here 
to be spiflicated,” answered Red Sweth, rubbing his 
head as he spoke. “ I don’t see what you wanted to 
hit me for.” 

“ But you will stop,” answered Crawilla, stamping 
her foot on the ground. 

“ If you try to run away I will go straight and find 
Jarl Olinson, and bring him to kill you with the tryst 
weapons.” 

“ Ugh ! ” groaned the warlock. “ You spiteful 
thing ! Very well, Fll stay, but I know I shall get 
into trouble, and it will be all through you.” 

“ Now listen to me,” said the witch. “ We must 
do something to make Jarl Olinson be our friend ” 

“ He will never be that,” was Red Sweth’s reply. 
“ I know him too well.” 

“ He will have to be. Hark, warlock, we must 
go to the tower and steal Droma of the Golden 
Hair.” 

“ Bless me, what did you say ? ” gasped Red Sweth. 
“ Are not the fairies on the watch ? ” 

“ Well, we must manage to deceive them in some 
way. We must go and steal Droma ? ” 


234 


THE SAGA OF 


“ But what good will that do ? It will only make 
Jarl come here all the quicker, and spiflicate us. 
Don’t see the least use of stealing Droma.” 

“ You may not, but I do — I don’t intend to have 
her here — nice thing that ! It would just mean 
your silly son Wolfang coming and trying to carry 
her off. No, Sweth, we must call Ulf the giant and 
give Droma to him, so that he may keep her for us. 
Ulf will carry her to his castle on the top of the moun- 
tain where no man can follow him, and even if Jarl 
did manage to get there, you know he could not 
possibly overcome Ulf. The giant would kill him 
easily, and we should be free from that danger.” 

“So we should,” was the warlock’s reply, and Red 
Sweth rubbed his head, but very gently, for there 
was a great bump where Crawilla had hit him. “ Well, 
that is not half a bad idea, Crawilla ! But how shall 
we manage to steal the daughter of Hilderbrand ? ” 

“ We must go to the tower and see,” the witch 
replied. “ Come, let us go at once ; change your- 
self into a green dragon-fly, and I will become a little 
spider, and we shall be able to slip in easily.” 

Then Red Sweth muttered and mumbled, and he 
became a green dragon-fly ; while Crawilla turned 
into a little spider as she had said, and the spider 
got on to the dragon-fly’s back, and the two went off 
as fast as could be towards the great tower where 
Droma of the Golden Hair was kept a prisoner. And 
when they got there, three times did they fly round 
the tower, but the fairies were watching at the windows 
and they did not dare to pass. ' So down they went 
to the bottom and there stood the sentinel and there 
sat the jailor ; and Red Sweth and Crawilla hid in 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


235 


one dark corner and listened to them talking, hoping 
that they might get a chance to go up the winding 
stairs and into the room where the princess was. 

And sure enough the chance came, for the jailer 
got up and he said to the sentinel — 

“Now surely this is a hard thing, to keep our sweet 
Droma locked up in this gloomy old tower, just 
because she is true to her lover, Jarl Olinson.” 

“ That is so,” answered the sentinel, “ and it is a 
hard thing to send Jarl Olinson away because he kept 
troth with the three old men. But some day Jarl 
Olinson will come back, and then he will marry 
Droma.” 

“ How do you know that, friend ? ” asked the 
jailor, and the sentinel answered — 

“ The wind whispers it, and the waves sing it, and 
the sea birds tell me as they fly by.” 

“ Well, I hope it is true,” answered the jailer, “ for 
Jarl is the bravest, and Droma is the fairest, in all 
the land of Norroway. Now, I will go and see if 
there is aught that Golden Haired Droma would like, 
and if there is she shall have it.” 

“ Come on,” whispered Crawilla to Red Sweth, 
and they crawled on to the jailer’s cloak and held on 
tightly while he went up to the prison room ; and then 
they slipped off and ran into a dark corner and hid 
there, waiting till they should get a chance to carry 
off the beautiful Droma, and chuckling to themselves 
to think how they had cheated the fairy watchers 
outside. Well, there Droma of the Golden Hair sat, 
she and her maidens, and though it was dull in that 
gloomy old place, Droma made it seem bright as a 
summer day, for she sang and was cheerful ; and when 


236 THE SAGA OF 

sometimes the maidens sighed, she would smile and 
say — 

“ Have patience a little longer, my maidens, and 
all will come right — and when my Jarl returns and 
sets me free, then shall you be rewarded, and the 
noblest young warriors of Norroway will come court- 
ing you, because you have been faithful to Droma 
of the Golden Hair.” 

Then the maidens answered — 

“ O, Droma of the Golden Hair, we will be faithful 
to you, even if we have to stay here all our lives.” 

Well, the jailer bowed and asked Droma if there 
was aught that he might do for her, and Droma 
thanked him gently and said no ; and then he went 
away, and when he had gone Droma started in sur- 
prise, for there stood another maiden to wait upon 
her, and one more beautiful than all the rest ; but 
alas ! Droma did not dream that this was Crawilla the 
witch in disguise, so she said to her — 

“ Where hast thou come from, maiden, and what 
dost thou want here ? ” and the wicked old witch 
answered — 

“ Oh, most beautiful Droma, I do but desire to be 
among those who serve you, and I desire that you 
will let me bind up your beautiful golden hair just 
once.” 

So Droma laughed, but she was so kind and so 
good-natured that she could not refuse, and so she 
said — 

“ Silly maiden to come here just to bind my golden 
hair ! But since you have come, and the jailer has 
allowed you to come up, you shall have your ^^dsh. 
Come and bind my hair.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


237 


So Crawilla came and pretended to be braiding the 
lovely golden locks which Droma let fall like a shower 
of gold all round her, and the other maidens stood 
round and said — 

“No one in all Norroway has hair like our dear 
Droma.” 

Now while Crawilla was braiding Droma’s hair, 
she took out the three golden hairs which Gunhilda 
had given her, and she braided these in with the rest ; 
and as she worked she let her hands steal gently 
towards the magic crystal necklet, which Droma ever 
wore on her snow-white throat 

Then the crystal began to flash and glitter like gems 
of fire, and Droma cried out — 

“ Be careful, maiden, what you do, for you may 
not harm my necklet.” 

“ Oh ! beautiful Droma,” said Crawilla humbly. 
“ I only want to remove the necklet while I braid 
your hair, for ’tis in the way of your tresses.” 

“ Then the tresses must go unbraided ” was Droma’s 
answer. “ For that necklet shall not be taken off my 
neck.” 

Now this made Crawilla horribly vexed, for she 
could not do Droma any real harm while the necklet 
was there, so she thought that she would try and 
snatch it off suddenly. 

But alas for her, she wished she had not tried the 
moment after, for though the crystals lay on Droma’s 
neck as cool as ice, yet they blistered the witch’s 
fingers the moment she tried to snatch them off, and 
Crawilla quite forgot the part she was playing, and 
changed into her old self, dancing and scolding and 


238 THE SAGA OF 

blowing on her fingers, from which all the skin was 
burnt off. 

Some of the maidens started up in terror as they 
saw the wicked face of the witch, and Droma cried 
out — 

“ Ah ! now I know why you wanted to braid my 
hair, you evil witch. You thought to steal away 
from me the necklet of wise Vryda, which was given 
to me by my true love, Jarl.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed Crawilla spitefully. “Not 
the necklet but you, Droma, did I want to steal ; and 
I am going to steal you, too^ 

Then she raised her skinny hands and cried — 

“ By the magic virtue of the three golden hairs 
which were stolen by your mother and given to me, 
Droma of the Golden Hair, I bid you come.” 

Then, oh dear, oh dear ! poor Droma was obliged to 
obey that awful old witch. Her maidens clung to 
her hands and begged her not to go, but she could not 
help herself, and was obliged to obey Crawilla. 

And then, oh, more dreadful still ! That green 
dragon-fly in the comer became a green dragon — 
a great, horrid, dreadful, terrible, awful, green dragon ; 
green enough to make a whole lot of little maidens 
faint, I am sure, and of course they all gave one 
dreadful shriek — at least, they gave one each, you 
must understand — and they laid their little selves 
down gracefully on the floor, and kicked their little 
heels on the ground, just proper, as all high-born 
maidens do when they swoon and have hysterics, 
and they said “ Ah — ah-h-h-h-h ! ” with a most prodi- 
gious long sigh, and lay quite still. 

But before they had finished doing this, Droma 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


239 


was gone ; for Crawilla grabbed hold of her and 
dragged her onto the back of the green dragon, and 
away with a whiff and a whirl out of the window 
the horrid monster went, with the witch sitting on 
its back, and grinning at the dismayed fairy guards. 
Well, the fairies flew off to tell Vryda, and the dragon 
flew off to Red Sweth’s house again and became the 
warlock, and Crawilla laughed and grinned, and glared 



** AWAY . . . THE HORRID MONSTER WENT.” 


at Droma, for she thought she had managed very 
nicely indeed. 

“ Now, Red Sweth,” she said, “ now we shall be 
able to defeat Jarl and Vryda and all our enemies ; 
for if they dare to try and harm us, we can kill Droma. 
Ho ! ho ! he ! he ! now we are getting along all 
right.” 

“ Wicked creatures,” answered Droma boldly. “ You 
will be sorry for this yet. You may think that you 


240 


THE SAGA OF 


can conquer, but you will be defeated ; and then your 
heads shall be cut off.” 

“ Here,” cried Red Sweth, “ who gave you leave to 
speak ? You are our prisoner and should behave 
as such, and not say such nasty spiteful things.” 

“We will soon make her change her tune when 
she sees her jailer,” sneered Crawilla, and Droma 
said — 

“ Oh ! I am to have another jailer, am I ? Well, 
that is a comfort, for I should not like to have you — 
your face would make me ill.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh ! isnH that funny,” 
laughed Red Sweth, while Crawilla turned green and 
blue with anger. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Red Sweth, who delighted 
to see any one annoyed. “ Oh ! ha, ha ! oh ! 
00— ER ! ! ! ” 

He did not laugh any more, for he had suddenly 
found himself seized by the fringe of red hair all round 
his bald pate, and then he felt that some one was 
actually boxing his ears, and boxing them very hard 
too ! 

“ Ooo ! Ooo ! 00 — ER 1 ” he yelled, twisting and 
squirming. “ Oh, don’t ! that hurts ! It is most 
exceedingly painful ! Yah ! Oh ! Give over, will 
you ? ” 

But he wriggled all in vain ; Droma had got a good 
grip of his hair, and though she was such a sweet- 
tempered girl, yet she had a little temper if you made 
her angry enough — all girls have, you know ; it’s 
their nature so to do. Well, she just gave that 
warlock one, two, three, on this ear ; and four, five, 
six, on that ear ; and seven, eight, nine, on t’other 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


241 


one ; until Red Sweth couldn’t see out of his eyes, 
and all the while Crawilla kept jumping round, and 
clapping her hands, and shouting — 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh ! isrCt that funny,” just 
as Sweth had done to her. 

But at last Droma was out of breath, and she just 
gave one most severe slap for a finish and let go of 
Sweth, who, with a tremendous yell, bounced back- 
wards and ducked his head into the water-butt to cool 
his ears ; for they were quite red and tingled dread- 
fully. You know how it feels, eh? Of course. Oh 
no, I would not tell any one else for the world! 
Well, now let us get on. 

“ There ! ” said Droma. “ Now, if you want any 
more ” 

“Gulp, guggly, guggle, gulp,” said Red Sweth, 
sticking his head farther into the water. “ Gulp ! 
N-N-nun-no — Don’t w-w-w-want not nun-nun-no 
mum-mum-more; guggly, guggly, guggle, gulp.” 

“ While as for yow,” went on Droma, turning to 
Crawilla, who turned pale and hopped away from her 
hastily. “ I have a very great mind to serve you the 
same.” 

“ Give her some — do,” said Red Sweth. “ It isn’t 
fair that I should have it all.” 

“ Silence ! ” said Droma, and Red Sweth silenced 
forthwith. 

“ Ho I ho I ” said Crawilla, but Sweth went “ Oh ! 
Oh I 00-er ! ! ” 

“ Ho ! ho I Droma. You think you can frighten 
me ! You shall see. Oh yes, you shall see.” 

“ Ho yus, you shall see,” added Red Sweth, keeping 
a good distance away. 

Q 


242 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Look yonder, over the bog,” said Crawilla ; and 
Sweth added — 

“ Yook lender, bover the ogg. Ha ! ha ! Look.” 

“Ulf! Ulf!” cried Crawilla. “Come hither 
Ulf.” 

“ Ulfy, Ulfy, Ulfy, come hither,” added the warlock ; 
and then, well, dear me ! I never did ! Gracious 
goodness, only more so. There came the biggest of 
big big giants, striding across the country — so big 
that his head touched the clouds and knocked holes 
in them; only, to be sure, the clouds were, well, 
rather low that day — and this giant came striding 
up to the warlock’s house, so that Red Sweth cried 
out in alarm — 

“ I say, just look where you are going, or you will 
damage the property and squash us ! ” 

“ \^at do you want with Ulf the giant, oh Cra- 
willa ? ” demanded the monster, in deep bass tones, 
and Crawilla answered — 

“ Ulf, do you see this maiden ? ” 

“ Aye, Crawilla, I see her,” answered the giant, 
gazing on Droma, who stood regarding this dreadful 
being, with white face and trembling hands. “ Aye, 
I see her, Crawilla.” 

“ Then, Ulf, know that this is Droma of the Golden 
Hair, the daughter of Jarl Hilderbrand.” 

“Aye,” said the giant, “and what of her, Cra- 
willa ? ” 

“You are to take her to your castle,” answered 
the wicked witch, “and there you are to guard her 
for us. Nor are you to deliver her to any, except we 
bid you do so.” 

“ Very well,” said Ulf the giant, and, stooping down, 


243 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

he picked up Droma as you would pick up a lady- 
bird, and he perched her on his shoulder. 

“ Come, maiden, I obey the witch, but you need 
not fear that Ulf will harm you,” he said, and just 
then, who should come rushing up but Harold Wolfang, 
and he cried out to his father — 

“ Is it true that you have got Droma of the Golden 
Hair ? ” 

“ It is true,” said Red Sweth, and then Wolfang 
cried — 

“ Then give her to me — where is she ? ” 

“ Here I am, Harold Wolfang,” answered Droma 
from the giant’s shoulder. “ Do you think that you 
would like to try and get at me ? ” 

Now at this Wolfang got into a mighty rage ; and 
he threw himself at Ulf, but the giant only flicked him 
with his finger, and Wolfang went tumbling head 
over heels, and when he got up, Ulf was gone and was 
striding away to his castle on the high moimtain top, 
with Droma still on his shoulder. And then, dear 
me ! how Wolfang did go on, to be sure. * How he 
scolded the witch and the warlock, because they had 
not given Droma to him ; but Crawilla did not care 
about Harold Wolfang, and she told him so and said — 
“You are to go and help Blackwolf the Viking, 
for he is coming with fire and sword against Red Olaf. 
Moreover, White Olaf will be in the battle, and you 
hate him because he threw you into a well. Now you 
go and help Blackwolf, and when you have won the 
battle and defeated Olaf, then you shall be first Jarl 
in Narroway, and we will make Ulf bring Droma 
back, and she shall be your wife.” 

Now at this Wolfang looked very pleased, for he 


244 


THE SAGA OF 


thought that after all he need not get in the front of 
the battle, and others might have all the hard knocks. 
So he took his big axe and hurried off, while Crawilla and 
Red Sweth sat down to plot more mischief, and to think 
how they could bring ruin and fire and sword into all 
the fair kingdom of Norroway, until they had got it 
all for their own. 

Now this is how Droma of the Golden Hair was 
stolen from the tower, and given to Ulf the Giant for 
him to carry to his castle. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


245 


CHAPTER XXII 

HOW KING OLAF THE RED WAS WOUNDED 

I T was war time in the land once more. From over 
the dark waves came the great dragon ships of 
the Vikings ; and in the first ship stood the great 
Viking-lord Blackwolf, he who feared no man, and gave 
mercy to none. And with Blackwolf came many fierce 
warriors who loved the man’s game and feared not hard 
blows, and as they came they sang their war songs, 
and bade defiance to the jarls of Norroway. 

And with Blackwolf was Harold Wolfang, for the 
Viking chief was the cousin of Red Sweth the warlock, 
and to him had Wolfang been sent by the witch and 
Sweth. 

Now when the ships of the Vikings came sailing over 
the sea, all the war horns were blown, and the people, 
freemen and thralls, came with their weapons to fight 
with the foe and drive Red Olaf’s enemies out of the 
land, and the first to get his men together was Jarl 
Hilderbrand. 

But the Jarl’s heart was heavy and his hair was grey, 
for old age was creeping upon him, and sorrow was 
weighing him down. He had sought and sought in 
vain for Droma of the Golden Hair, and no tidings of 
her could be gained, and so he grieved sore, and grief 
made his hand weak. 

And Red Olaf, grim and stern as he was, yet loved 


THE SAGA OF 


246 

Jarl Hilderbrand like as a brother, and he said to him — 

“ O Hilderbrand, friend and brother ! thou hast ever 
been first to join me when the war-game was to be 
played, and I have ever been more glad to greet thee 
and to have thee by my side than I have been to greet 
any other. But now, Jarl, I will not have thee come, 
for grief is weighing on thy heart, and thine eyes are 
dim with the tears you shed for the Golden Haired 
Droma.” But Hilderbrand answered the king — 

“ O Red Olaf, lord and king, never since I was old 
enough to bear armour have I been absent from thy 
side when the man’s game has been afoot, and I will 
not leave thee now, let my grief be what it will.” 

But Red Olaf said again — 

“ Nay, Jarl, but thou shalt not come, for it needs 
that one wise head and one true heart shall remain at 
home. The evil trolls are helping my foes, and the 
fight will be stem, for since Jarl the Neatherd was sent 
away there has been no good fortune in Norroway, 
and this is what the troll princes said should be. Now 
it may be that I and the prince, my son, shall be slain 
in the battle, and then it needs that some one shall be 
left to gather the warriors of Norroway and make stand 
against the foe, and this must be thy task, O Hilder- 
brand.” 

“ The words of the king are wise words, Hilder- 
brand,” said White Olaf. “ Do you tarry here, and 
if we win the fight, well ; but if we lose, then we shall 
know that thou wilt be ready to succour us, and our 
hearts will not fail.” 

So Jarl Hilderbrand saw that the words of Olaf were 
good, and though it grieved him sorely, he obeyed 
the wish of Red Olaf and tarried in his castle, getting 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


247 


many men together and laying up much store of food, 
in case the foe should come and besiege him, and while 
he did this White Olaf the prince, and Red Olaf the 
king, went to play the man’s game. And they got on 
board their great war-ships and went sailing, sailing 
over the dark waves, till they sighted the ships of the 
Vikings coming towards them ; and then did they 
sound their w^ar horns once more and prepare for the 
battle. 

And it was a dreadful fight, and great deeds were 
wrought by all there ; only Harold Wolfang ever kept 
behind the rest, for he was a nithing at heart, and only 
when he saw a weakling, or a wounded man, did he 
seek to slay him. All day long the fight went on, and 
men still sing of the deeds that were done, and how the 
Olafs and Blackwolf fought ; but the game was against 
the King of Norroway, and his ships were scattered, 
and the Vikings sank many, so that the rest took to 
flight. 

Now Blackwolf had sought all day to meet Red Olaf 
face to face and to slay him with his own hand ; and 
yet when the sun sank and the storm-sisters came 
from their hiding-place and swept across the waters, 
these two had not met, though each had been wounded 
in the fray. 

But just as the darkness came, Blackwolf spied Olaf 
in his ship, and he cried, “ Greeting, Red Olaf.” 

And the king answered, “ Greeting, Jarl Blackwolf.” 

Then said the Viking — 

“ I have a message and a gift for thee. King Olaf ; 
but ’tis late now; tarry for me till the morning, and 
I will give it to thee.” 

“ I will tarry for thee, 0 Blackwolf,” answered Red 


248 


THE SAGA OF 


Olaf stoutly ; “ but it will be on the shore, for there 
is not room to fight here, and we have lost many ships. 
We will go back to our own land, and if thou dost dare 
to follow us, then we will bid thee welcome as warriors 
should.” 

“ I will come, O king,” laughed the Viking ; and 
then the ships parted, and Olaf gave orders, and his 
ships sailed back to Norroway with all speed. 

Then the king brought all his men to shore, and had 
the ships taken up the fiord and hidden where he 
thought Blackwolf would not know of them, and there 
on the sands they waited till the enemy should come. 

“ Now we shall see the foe overthrown,” said Red 
Olaf to his son, “ for they know not the dangers of the 
coast, and their ships will strike on the rocks and run 
on the sands, and then they will be in our power.” 

So said Red Olaf, but he forgot that Blackwolf had 
a traitor to guide him, for Harold Wolfang was with 
him, and the warlock’s son knew all the channels and 
the rocks of the coast. 

So all through the long night the warriors of Norroway 
waited, hoping to hear the cries of the Vikings as their 
ships were broken among the rocks ; but all night 
there came no sound, only just towards morning they 
saw a glare of red light away to the left, and Red Olaf 
said — 

“ That is the light of a great fire ! Now, what evil 
can that mean, O my son ? ” 

“ Evil it is indeed, my father the king,” answered 
White Olaf sadly. “ Our foe have found out where 
we hid our ships, and they have sent men and set them 
on fire. O king, the war-game will be hard now 
for us.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


249 


“ But how could they do this, White Olaf ? ” asked 
the king. “ Who is the traitor who has led them ? 
Ah ! I know ; it is Jarl, the son of Olin; he has joined 
the Vikings, the enemies of our country, because I made 
him nameless man and outlaw. It is Jarl, the son 
of Olin, whom thou hast called brother and friend, that 
has done this thing. White Olaf.” 

But Prince Olaf answered quickly — 

“ My father the king, I know not who is the traitor 
who has done this ; but this I know, it is not Jarl Olin- 
son, for his heart is too true and his love for Norroway 
too strong ; besides, he has sworn that his sword shall 
be for me, and his life for me, for ever, so how then 
could he aid my enemies ? ” 

“ But who else should do this. White Olaf ? ” asked 
the king, and his son replied — 

“ I know not, but I have a thought. Do you not 
remember the son of the warlock, Harold Wolfang ? 
He is nithing and traitor, and he hates us all from 
first to last. Moreover, Wolfang knows the sea 
coast, but Jarl does not, for he has never sailed 
the seas.” 

Then Red Olaf struck his hands together, and he 
cried — 

“ White Olaf, I believe that thou art right. Wolfang 
is the traitor ! Now this is my word : he who finds 
Harold Wolfang shall slay him, and not spare him, 
even if he be helpless and wounded, and he who brings 
me the traitor’s head shall be honoured throughout all 
the land.” 

Well, then tidings came to say that it was as White 
Olaf had said, and that the Vikings had sent a ship in 
the darkness, which was guided by one who knew the 


250 


THE SAGA OF 


channels well, and all the king’s ships were given to 
the flames and all the sailors slain. 

And hardly was this news told before the day broke, 
and there, close in to the shore, were all the Viking 
ships, and the warriors of Juteland were clustering 
with bows and spears at the side, ready to drive back 
the men of Norroway, did they try to hinder their 
landing. 

“ Now,” said Red Olaf, as he took his great axe and 
his shield, “ now, son, this is going to be a great fight, 
the like of which has not been in the land for many 
a day. Great deeds will be done this day. White Olaf, 
and many will be the women and children who will 
weep for loved ones when the sun goes down again.” 

Then the king led all his men down to the water- 
edge, and there they waited, guarding themselves with 
their shields as the arrows whistled among them. 
And moreover, Olaf’s archers kept firing their arrows 
at the foe, and many a grim Viking fell into the waves 
and went to the stormland without ever putting his 
foot on Norway’s shore. 

But fast as they fell, others took their places, and 
they laughed and cried — 

“ Now thank we Red Olaf for his love tokens ; but 
when we meet him we will give him ours in return.” 

And then they sprang waist-deep into the waves, 
and rushed towards the shore ; and the warriors of 
Norroway ran to meet them, and the waves came red 
with blood as they clutched each other and rolled in 
the foam, in the man’s game. 

And hidden from sight in the clouds, the storm- 
sisters and Crawilla and Red Sweth laughed and 
shrieked with delight to see this dreadful fight ; but 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


251 


the good fairies hid their faces, and wept that men 
should have such evil passions and do such dreadful 
things. 

And in the front of the battle stood Blackwolf, and 
he was taller by a head than any there ; and his great 
war-axe shone like a streak of light as it went this way 
and that, and with each blow a warrior of Norroway 
fell. 

Then presently the king and Blackwolf met face to 
face, and the Viking laughed, and cried — 

“ Wes hael. Red Olaf ; but the drink shall be a 
bitter one, for there is hate between thee and me.” 

“ Words for women and blows for men, Blackwolf,” 
answered the king, and he aimed a mighty blow at the 
Viking, and shore away one of the great wings of his 
helmet. 

Then the Viking laughed again — 

“ That was a good blow, 0 king, but this is a better 
one,” he cried ; and he struck so fiercely that Olaf’s 
shield was broken and the king fell on one knee. 

But White Olaf was at his father’s side, and he held 
his shield over Red Olaf and drove his spear full at 
Blackwolf, so that the Viking fell back. 

And then did Harold Wolfang prove what a nithing 
he was, for he saw that Red Olaf was faint from the 
blow, and he came behind him and drove his dagger 
in between the cracks of the king’s armour, a deep, 
wicked blow, so that Red Olaf cried out in pain, and 
said — 

“ Oh, Prince Olaf, thou wilt be king now, for some 
one has stricken me sorely and I shall die.” 

Then White Olaf, when he saw his father fall wounded 
and bleeding, cried out and said — 


252 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Oh, Blackwolf, is this the way that heroes fight ? 
Didst thou so fear the king that thou hast had to 
bring nithings to stab him in secret ? ” 

But Blackwolf gave a mighty shout of rage, and held 
up his hand and bade the battle cease, and he came 
to White Olaf’s side as he knelt beside the king, and 
he said — 

“ Prince Olaf, this is my word and this is my troth, 
as I am man and warrior. I brought no man to stab 
the king in secret ; I fight not my battles in that way, 
but face to face, looking at my enemy fearlessly. I 
swear I know not who struck this blow, which has 
brought shame on all my warriors.” 

Then a great fierce Viking lord cried and said — 

“ O Blackwolf, and you, White Olaf. No Viking of 
Juteland did this shame-deed, for this is not the way 
we play the man’s game. This blow was struck by 
one of thine own land, Olaf, and by one of thy kin, 
Blackwolf.” 

“ Which of my land would do this shame-deed ? ” 
cried the prince, while the angry Blackwolf roared — 

“ Aye, Siegwould, and which of my kin would do 
this ? ” 

“ ’Tis he called Harold Wolfang who struck this 
coward-blow,” the Viking answered. “ I saw him 
myself.” 

Then cried Blackwolf, “ This is my word ; if ever 
I find Wolfang again, I will slay him with mine own 
hand, because he hath shamed me and my Vikings, 
and done the coward’s deed.” 

Now all this time the two armies stood waiting the 
signal of their chiefs ; but Blackwolf knelt by Red 
Olaf’s side and looked into his face, and he knew that 


JARL THE NEATHERD 253 

soon the king would go to the stormland ; so he 
said — 

“ Red Olaf, the king, is dying, and a deed of shame 
has been done, and it is not well that the man’s game 
should go on now. Now, Prince Olaf, this is my word : 
If thou dost like the battle to continue, then it shall 
be so. But if thou dost desire to sit with the king, thy 
father, while he lives, then the battle shall stop for 
twenty-four hours. And yet again, if thy heart is 
heavy and thou wilt go to make mourning for the king 
and to bid the skalds sing his death song, then I will 
be willing for any one of the warriors of Norroway to 
go holmgang with me, and if he beats me, then shall 
my ships go away for a year and a day and not worry 
thee or thine ; and these things I say because of the 
shame-deed which has been done to the king, who was 
a hero and a warrior indeed.” 

So White Olaf answered the Viking with courteous 
words, and he said that he would think over his speech, 
and that for twenty-four hours there should be peace 
time between the Vikings and the warriors of Norro- 
way, and he bade Blackwolf come to his own tent and 
have food, and he said — 

“ Have no fear, Blackwolf, for this I will pledge my 
life — no dagger shall be raised against thee, though 
thou didst not carry man’s tools and had no war- 
gear on.” 

And at this a blush of shame mantled the great 
Viking chief’s cheek, and he said — 

“ O Prince, I will come. But rebuke me not, for he 
who did this thing was traitor to you and false to me, 
and if I meet him he shall die.” 

Harold Wolfang had taken good care to run away. 


254 


THE SAGA OF 


and he was safely with his father now, and laughing 
to thinjc of the trouble he had made in the land. 

Now in his tent lay Red Olaf, and the prince was 
by his father’s side ; and the king asked how the 
battle had gone, and why the sound of the war-game 
was not in the air. 

So White Olaf told his father of all that had hap- 
pened, and how Blackwolf had offered a treaty to him, 
and the king sighed. 

“ Blackwolf is the mightiest warrior of his land,” he 
said slowly, “ and truly I know of no warrior in Norro- 
way who may go holmgang with him.” 

“ That will I do, my father,” cried White Olaf, but 
the king shook his head. 

“ That may not be. White Olaf, for I am going to 
the stormland, and you must be king and rule the 
land well, and make it powerful ; and didst thou go 
holmgang and be slain, who would rule Norro- 
way ? ” 

“ Jarl Hilderbrand, my father,” answered White 
Olaf. 

“Not so,” answered the king. “The Jarl is wise 
and brave, but he has no son, and the land would be full 
of war to determine who should be king. No, Olaf the 
prince, who will soon be Olaf the king, thou must tarry 
here, and if no man may be found, then must the man’s 
game go on after the twenty-four hours are gone. Ah ! 
there was one man would have fought for Norro way’s 
honour and have delivered the land ; but he is gone, 
and the troll princes spoke a true word to me when 
they said that I should long for Jarl the Neatherd to 
be my friend in my hour of danger.” 

“ Would I knew where to send message to him,” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


255 


answered White Olaf, “for this I know, Jarl would 
keep troth with me and come, did he but know I 
wanted him.” 

“ Shall I take him thy message, O Prince ? ” asked 
a voice, and then White Olaf looked up, and there stood 
Vryda the Wise before him. 

“ Oh Vryda the Wise,” he said joyfully, “ if you 
know where Jarl, my brother and friend, is, take him 
my message. Tell him that White Olaf sends him 
greeting, and that the land calls for him, and the king 
needs him ; and tell him that there is man’s work to 
be done, and only he may do it. Wilt thou do this, 
O Vryda ? ” 

“ I will do it, prince,” she answered, and then she 
vanished ; and presently Blackwolf came to the tent 
of Red Olaf, and he said — 

“ O king, what shall be the word I am to have ? 
Shall the battle continue, or shall it tarry four and 
twenty hours, or shall there come a champion of Norro- 
way to go holmgang with me, so that there shall be 
truce for a year and a day ? ” 

“ We will give thee answer soon, Blackwolf,” an- 
swered the White Olaf, and the great Viking bowed 
his head, for he grieved that his enemy should have 
been thus stabbed. 

“ Is there a warrior of Norroway who will dare go 
holmgang with me ? ” he asked presently, but not as 
a boaster. Blackwolf knew his own might, and he was 
minded to go away without seeking to have any one 
go holmgang with him, seeing that all the jarls were 
grieving for their king. 

But as he asked the question his heart leapt with joy, 
and a light sprang to his eyes, for in the doorway of 


256 


THE SAGA OF 


the tent stood a jarl all clothed in war-gear, who 
answered in deep tones — 

“Yes, Blackwolf, there is a jarl who will dare that. 
I will go holmgang with thee, bare sark or bumie clad, 
and to this I pledge thee my word.” 

Then when White Olaf heard that voice speak he 
started up with a cry of joy and gripped this stranger 
by the hand, for he knew the voice, and he knew the 
eye, and his heart felt as if a heavy load had been lifted 
from it, for this was Jarl, come back once more to aid 
him in his hour of sorrow. 

Now this is how the foe came to Norroway, and how 
Red Olaf the king was wounded by the traitor and 
nithing, Harold Wolfang. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


257 


CHAPTER XXIII 

HOW JARL WENT HOLMGANG WITH THE VIKING CHIEF. 

W ELL, now, I suppose, before we get on with this 
chapter I shall have to answer one or two 
questions, because I know that you are just dying to 
ask them. Ah ! I was sure of that by the way some 
of you were fidgeting about all through that last 
chapter. 

Well, come along. I know what you want to ask. 
What do I mean by going holmgang, is it not ? Ah ! 
I thought so ! 

Well, now, I will try to explain. It meant having 
a nice little quiet fight all to yourself, without any one 
to interfere or run and tell the policeman. 

When two people went holmgang, they used to row 
out to some nice little island — one that had water all 
round was preferred, of course — and then they would 
have a nice quiet time together ; and they called it 
holm gang because while two ganged out to the island, 
as a rule only one ganged home again. See ? The 
other one was generally so damaged that it was really 
not worth while paying the carrier to bring him back 
any more. 

And what did Jarl mean when he said he would go 
hare sark or hurnie clad ? I am not quite sure about 
that last word, by the bye. I know that was the 
sound of it, but goodness knows if they spelt it like 

R 


THE SAGA OF 


258 

that. Well, it doesn’t matter much, either way. It 
just meant that Jarl was willing to take off his coat 
and tuck up his sleeves if Blackwolf liked that way, or 
else he would be willing to stuff plenty of copy books 
in, so that there was not much danger of being hurt. 
You know, boys, don’t you, copy books are most con- 
venient sometimes ? Of course the girls don’t under- 
stand that part, because girls are only punished by 
being stood in the corner, or having a few gentle taps 
with a ruler — two on each hand — so soft that it would 
not hurt a fly, though they do make an awful fuss, and 
look as if they were being hurt awfully — that’s 
because they are girls. 

But, as I was saying, Jarl meant that he would fight 
in his shirt sleeves with no armour at all, or that he 
would fight in armour, just whichever the Viking liked 
best, which, to my mind, was most awfully good-natured 
of him, for if it had been me, I should have declined to 
fight at all. Fighting is common, and low, and rude, 
and you are apt to get hurt ; and that’s why I don’t 
like it. 

Well, now, that little bit is done, and we have got 
to behave ourselves again and get on with this story ; 
and as its a saga, we must treat it as such, and behave 
respectfully to it. 

Now we are going to begin the chapter. 

Now perhaps we had better just see how it is that 
Jarl had come, and more especially where he had come 
from. 

You know the last we saw of him he had got his troll 
gifts and had promised Vryda that he would not leave 
Norroway till she gave him leave. And Windswift 
had taken him miles and miles into the dense forest, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


259 


and up the mighty mountains, till he had seen the ships 
of the Vikings coming over the waves, and he had seen 
the ships of Red Olaf go to meet them. 

And he had seen the battle, and his heart had been 
full of eagerness ; yet, alas ! he could not join in it and 
help Norroway, for he was nameless man and landless 
man and outlaw. 

And he said to himself in his bitterness — 

“ It matters not to me ! The battle is not mine ! 
If I was there, I should help the Vikings against Red 
Olaf, for he has shamed me and turned me away.” 

But then Duty pinched him, and he knew that the 
gift shoe did not like him to think bitter thoughts like 
that, and Jarl was growing to do just what the shoes 
told him to now, for he had found them so wise and 
helpful. All day he stood and watched, and he saw 
the warriors begin the man’s game next morning, and 
he saw that Blackwolf would surely gain the victory. 
Then he saw Red Olaf fall, and his heart grew so hot 
that he knew not what to do — he wanted to spring on 
his horse and go swift as the wind to help White Olaf ; 
yet still he said — 

“ I am nameless man and landless* and I may not 

go-” 

But then the shoe pinched more than ever, and Jarl 
turned to his horse and cried — 

“ Oh ! Windswift, take me to Vryda the Wise, for 
I will ask her advice, and whether I may not go and 
help Prince Olaf, and play the man’s game for the 
sake of Norroway.” 

Then away and away sped the horse, with hoofs that 
scarcely seemed to touch the ground, and with speed 
that left the wind far behind ; and soon he came to 


26 o 


THE SAGA OF 


Vryda’s cave, and there sat Vryda spinning, and she 
looked up and greeted Jarl with a smile. 

“ Greeting, Jarl,” she said. “ What dost want with 
me, thy friend ? ” 

“ O Vryda,” he answered, “ dost thou know that 
the foe are in Norroway, and that the man’s game is 
played, and that there is work to be done ? ” 

“ All this I know, Jarl ; what is it to thee ? ” she 
answered calmly, and he replied — 

“ Oh! Vryda, I will go and join in the man’s game ; 
but I would seek thy advice and permission first.” 

“ But, Jarl, didst thou not say a little while back 
that it was not thy business ? ” 

“ I did, Vryda, but I spoke foolishly, for my heart 
tells me that it is my business indeed ; and I desire to 
go and help the king, who is still my king.” Then did 
Vryda smile. 

“ I have a message for thee, Jarl,” she said, “ and 
it is from thy friend and brother. White Olaf the 
Prince. He needs thee, Jarl, and Norroway needs 
thee, for there is man’s work to be done, and only thou 
mayest do it.” 

“ Then may I go ! ” cried Jarl eagerly, and Vryda 
smiled again, and gave him leave. 

Then did Jarl run to his steed, and as he mounted 
he cried — 

“ O Windswift, Windswift, if thou dost love me, let 
thy speed be its best ; carry me to the White Olaf, O 
Windswift.” 

“ I will obey, 0 master,” answered the horse ; “ but 
first let us go and get all thy weapons, for the war game 
is afoot, and you may need all your gear.” 

“ Thy word is wise, Windswift, and we will do as you 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


261 


say,” answered Jarl, and away went the horse again. 

But that journey did not take long, and soon Jarl 
Olinson had all his fairy armour on, and his great 
sword by his side, and his good lance in his hand. 
And then away raced Windswift, and soon he stood 
at Red Olaf’s tent, just in time to hear what Blackwolf 
the Viking had to say. 

And glad was White Olaf that his friend was by his 
side again ; and glad was Red Olaf, though he was in 
sore pain and dying ; and glad, too, was Blackwolf the 
Viking, for his fierce spirit loved the war game, and 
here was one who looked fit champion to meet him, 
one whom it would be honour to conquer, and by whom 
it would be no shame to be overcome. 

So Blackwolf turned to White Olaf, and said — 

“ O Prince, I did not think that there was such a 
comely man in all the land of Norroway ! Yet why 
have I not seen him before, and where has he been 
while the man’s game has been played ? ” 

“ Blackwolf,” answered Jarl, before the prince could 
speak, “ I am here to take thy challenge ; but it may 
be that thou wilt not be willing to fight with me. 
Know, Viking, that I am no jarl, noble bom — I am a 
thrall and a thrall’s son, and I have worn the thrall- 
collar. For my deeds was the collar taken off ; but 
since then have I angered Red Olaf, my lord and king 
who lies wounded here, and by him am I made name- 
less man and landless man ; so wilt thou fight me now. 
Viking ? ” 

And Blackwolf the Viking took Jarl’s hand in his 
own great palm, and he said — 

“ Thou and I are of one heart and spirit, nameless 
one and landless one, and by the hammer of Thor, I 


262 THE SAGA OF 

had rather fight thee than win all Norroway for mine 
own.” 

“That is well spoken, Viking,” answered Jarl. 
“ Then will I fight for Norroway, and thou shalt fight 
for Juteland, and by the issue shall we abide.” 

“ It is so,” said the Viking. “ If thou dost overthrow 
me and slay me, then I will bid that my men shall 
leave the shores of Norroway free for a year and a day.” 

“And if thou dost slay me ? ” answered Jarl, and 
the Viking replied — 

“ Then after twenty-four hours will we march on to 
settle the man’s game, once and for all.” 

“ It is good,” answered Jarl. “ I am well content.” 

“ Now I have a word, Blackwolf,” put in Prince Olaf. 
“ Though this nameless man, my friend and brother, 
hath spoken so slightingly of himself, I will tell thee 
that he is the bravest in the land.” 

“ That thou hast no need to say. Prince,” answered 
Blackwolf. “ I can tell a warrior when I see one ; 
and behold I see three now, though the king, your 
father, is stricken.” 

“ Thou art a brave and knightly foe, Blackwolf,” 
answered Red Olaf from his couch, “ and me thinks that 
you would have stopped this blow with thine own body, 
if it might have been so. Now I also have one word. 
Not only is Jarl the bravest, but the truest man in 
Norroway, who braved my anger and his disgrace 
rather than break troth with a beggar ; and Jarl, this 
I say to thee: No more art thou nameless, but all thy 
lands are thine again, and others shalt be given to thee. 
Now go and fight for Norroway, and do thy part as a 
hero, and whether thou dost fall, or whether thou dost 
conquer, Red Olaf thanks thee and wishes thee well.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


263 


Then Blackwolf went to his own men and told them 
how he had found a warrior worthy of meeting him 
in combat, and he told them also how if Jarl overthrew 
him, that for a year and a day there was to be peace 
between Juteland and Norroway ; and the Vikings 
waved their swords and axes, and cried, “ Skoal to 
Jarl of Norroway, and Skoal to Blackwolf of Juteland ! ” 
Then all the men of the two armies gathered to see the 
fight, and they who had before been slaying each 
other now stood as friends ; and some said to the others 
that if they could stand like that for an hour they could 
stand like it for years, and that all this killing and burn- 
ing and hariying was but foolishness after all ; and 
thus it fell out that Jarl’s fighting with Blackwolf was 
to be the first step in teaching people that war-time 
was bad, and that peace-time was good for the land. 

Now some way out from the shore there rose a great 
rock, around which the waves and the tides eddied and 
played, and if the fight was to take place on this rock, 
then all there, both Viking and Jarl-man, could see 
it easily. 

And Blackwolf pointed this rock out to Jarl, and 
asked him if he thought that this would do, and Jarl 
laughed and said, “ That will do for our man’s game, 
O Blackwolf.” 

But then he asked the Viking whether he would fight 
bare sark or burnie clad, and Blackwolf cried — 

“ Now let us fight in our war gear, Jarl Olinson, as 
becomes warriors, and not bare sark, like two wild 
berserkers.” 

“ I am well content, Blackwolf,” was the reply 
“ but then thou must lend me some war-gear.” 

Now at this Blackwolf looked surprised, seeing that 


THE SAGA OF 


264 

Jarl was clad in his beautiful troll armour, and the 
Viking cried — 

“ O Jarl, son of Olin, read me thy riddle. Thou hast 
on the most beautiful armour that ever I saw, and yet 
thou dost say that thou must have war-gear lent to 
thee ! What is thine armour for, I pray thee, O Jarl ; 
or art thou frightened of having it spoilt in the game ? ” 

“ Content thee, Blackwolf,” answered Jarl. “ I fear 
not for mine armour, but I wish to fight thee fairly 
and my war-gear would give me too much advantage 
over thee. See,” and Jarl set down his shield. “ Now 
Blackwolf, take thy axe and strike, and see if thou 
canst even dent it ? ” 

“ I shall cut it in twain,” laughed the Viking, and 
Jarl said that he would be willing for the warrior to try. 

So Blackwolf turned and took an axe from the hands 
of one of his men, and this axe happened to be the 
magic one which had belonged to Wolfang, and which 
he had flung aside after he had dealt the coward’s blow 
at the king, for the coward and the traitor may never 
use Effort again. 

So Jarl, when he saw the axe, looked at it closely 
and he said — 

“ Blackwolf, that axe is a good one but it belonged 
to a bad man, for it was the axe of Harold Wolfang. 
Now I have a boon to ask of thee ; ” and Blackwolf 
said — 

“ Whatever thy boon, Jarl Olinson, it is granted.” 

“ This then is my boon, Blackwolf. If it is that I 
shall vanquish thee in the man’s game, then let that axe 
be mine, even as my war-gear will be thine if thou dost 
conquer me.” “ It shall be as thou dost say, Jarl,” 
answered the Viking ; and then, planting his feet 


JARL THE NEATHERD 265 

firmly, he took the axe with both hands and aimed 
a mighty blow at the shield. 

But all men cried out in wonder, for there was not 
the least dent on the smooth surface, though the very 
earth shook with the blow. 

“ Truly, Jarl, this is a wondrous shield,” cried Black- 
wolf ; “ but is thy armour as strong ? ” 

“Thou mayest try,” answered Jarl, and he took off 
his helm. “ See if thou canst dent that. Viking ? ” 

This time Blackwolf took a mighty war-mace, and 
with this great iron club he struck the helm so that 
all men looked to see it bent and broken. But the 
mace broke in twain from the blow, and the helm was 
not marked. 

“ As the shield and helm, so is the armour. Black- 
wolf,” answered Jarl, seeing the looks of surprise ; 
“ and it is no wonder, for this is the gift of the three 
mighty troll princes, and there is no more armour like 
this in the world, while as for the lance — ^look.” 

He took three great shields from three of the men 
standing near, and he placed them one before the other. 
Then he took his lance and hurled it, and a great cry 
of surprise went up, for that slight weapon pierced 
through all three shields as easy as though their iron 
plates had been but paper. 

“ Now, Blackwolf, dost thou see why I may not fight 
thee clad in this war-gear, for truly, strong and valiant 
as thou art, thou wouldst have no chance against me.” 

“I see thou art most honourable man in the land, 
Jarl, son of Olin,” was the answer of the Viking, “ for 
thou mightest have come against me in this thy magic 
armour and have overthrown me with ease. Jarl, 
thou art true man, and I love thee.” 


266 


THE SAGA OF 


Now it may seem strange to us to think of these two 
men talking about loving each other when they were 
going fighting and might perhaps kill each other ; 
but that was one of the ways they had in the good old 
times, though I certainly think our ways an improve- 
ment upon them. 

Then Blackwolf stripped off his own armour, and 
said that they would fight without war-gear, and with 
only axe and sword and shield ; and so they went together 
to the island, and those who rowed them there bade 
them farewell, for all thought that two such valiant 
warriors must certainly destroy each other ere the 
fight was done. 

So all alone on the island Jarl and Blackwolf faced 
each other, and they had their swords by their sides 
and their axes and shields in their hands, and thus 
they stood for a moment ; and then Blackwolf cried, 
“ Skoal to thee, Jarl of Norroway ! ” and Jarl answered, 
“Skoal to thee, Blackwolf of Juteland!” and these 
two fell to valiantly. 

Now, though they were equally armed now, Black- 
wolf had this advantage, that he wielded the great axe 
Effort, not knowing that it was a magic weapon, and 
Jarl had the advantage that he had the fairy sword 
Resolution, nor did he know that this was as powerful 
as was the axe. 

So then, when they first set to with their axes Black- 
wolf was the better of the twain, for his blows were 
more mighty, and they sorely dinted the shield which 
Jarl now used. 

But then Jarl was mighty in strength ; and though 
his axe was not fairy weapon, yet he gave lusty blows, 
and more than once did he send Blackwolf reeling back- 
ward, from the force of the buffets. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


267 

Each one was wounded, too, yet not enough to make 
them 5deld ; and presently Jarl’s axe broke, so that he 
had to draw back and pluck his sword from its sheath. 

Now Blackwolf thought that with his axe he could 
easily beat Jarl with his sword, but he found out his 
mistake, for now the great blade of Resolution gleamed 
this way and that before his eyes, and gave blows as 
strong as did the axe, so that Blackwolf began to lose 
strength, so great was the strain. And all around on 
the shore men stood trembling with eagerness, and 
scarce able to speak, and they whispered that never 
in all the world had there been such a combat as this. 

So for three long hours did these two mighty cham- 
pions combat, yet neither was vanquished. Both their 
shields were broken to pieces, and Jarl’s axe was spoilt, 
and Blackwolf s sword was shivered ; but Jarl fought 
with his sword, and the Viking fought with his axe, 
though their breath came in long deep gasps and their 
feet could scarce support them ; and though the rock 
was red with their blood, yet neither was beaten. 

And at Isist as they paused for breath, looking at each 
other with eyes of admiration, Blackwolf panted — 

“ By Thor’s hammer, Jarl, I love thee better than 
I do my own life ! Thou art the mightiest warrior in 
the world.” 

“Except Blackwolf the Viking,” answered Jarl, 
“ for I cannot overthrow him. But truly. Viking, I 
am weary of this combat. Shall we make an end of it 
one way or the other ? ” 

“ How so, Jarl ? ” asked Blackwolf, and Jarl an- 
swered — 

“ Let us lay down our weapon and try who is master, 
wrestling.” 


268 


THE SAGA OF 


“Agreed, Jarl. Yet this is my word. Let which 
will conquer, there must be peace henceforth between 
Juteland and Norroway for the love I bear thee, and 
for the glory of this day’s battle.” 

Then they laid down their arms and they drew near 
to wrestle, and strong men turned pale and trembled, 
so excited were they now. 

For Blackwolf was the mightier of the twain, and 



**SO THEY GRIPPED AND TUGGED AND STRAINED.” 


his great muscles stood out like the ropes of the ships ; 
but Jarl was the firmer and the quicker ; yet as they 
thus stood none might say who had best chance. 

And then they gripped each other with a good 
honest grip, and Jarl paid no heed now to his feet, for 
he knew that this warrior would never try to gain 
unfair advantage by trampling upon them. 

So they gripped, and tugged, and strained, swaying 
this way and that, and thrice did Blackwolf lift Jarl 


JARL THE NEATHERD 269 

sheer from the ground, seeking to hurl him to the earth, 
and thrice did Jarl manage to keep his hold, so that 
his foe was powerless to shake him off ; and all this 
time did Jarl bide his time, for when he grew impa- 
tient, then did Vryda’s gift shoe hurt him and warn him. 

And bit by bit he knew, from the deep gasping sobs 
of the Viking, that Blackwolf was nigh vanquished 
and had no more strength left, and the more he knew 
this the more calmly did he bide his time. 

And at last it came, for Blackwolf loosened his grasp 
and strove to gain a deeper breath, and then in a 
twinkling Jarl put out all his might and had the 
Viking tightly pinioned and off his feet and high above 
his head. Then all on the land gave a deep gasp, 
for they thought that Jarl meant to dash Blackwolf 
to^he earth and so kill him, and even Blackwolf himself 
thought this, and he gasped hoarsely — 

“ Jarl, we have fought long and fairly, and I love 
thee. For our friendship’s sake slay me with man’s 
weapons and with hero’s death, but do not dash me 
to the earth to be broken like a weakling.” 

Then did Jarl give a great laugh ; and he set Black- 
wolf on his feet and gripped his hand, and he cried 
aloud so that all could hear — 

“ O my brother, didst thou think so little of me 
that thou didst believe that I could do this nithing’s 
deed ? I have beaten thee, it is true. Viking, but never 
did man take so much beating, and I also love thee. 
Give me my axe. Viking, for this I have fairly won, 
and then let there be friendship between us and our 
people and lands, even according to thine own word.” 

Then Blackwolf seized Jarl’s hand and gripped it 
heartily. 


270 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Jarl, thou art a noble foe,” he said ; “ by rights 
my life is thine, and thou mightest slay me if thou 
didst so desire, but thou hast not done this, but 
hast given me life again. Now therefore my life is 
for thee, and my men are thy men whenever thou 
dost want them ; and if ever thou shalt send to Jute- 
land, then all the war-ships of Blackwolf the Viking 
shall sail at thy bidding. Now here is thine axe, 
and braver hand and better weapon never met ; and 
in my halls it shall be my highest praise when my 
minstrels sing that Blackwolf the Viking was beaten 
by Jarl Olinson of Norroway.” 

Then all men shouted and cried that the thing was 
good, and together they feasted. Viking and Jarl-man, 
and then after one last farewell Blackwolf and his 
Vikings sailed away, yet they left ships, two for each 
one they had given to the flames, and golden bracelets 
for the widows of those who had fallen in the man’s 
game. 

And when Blackwolf had gone, behold Red Olaf 
the king gave Jarl his hand in friendship, and he gave 
White Olaf his blessing, and then he folded his hands 
in sleep and went to the stormland, and all there made 
lamentation for Olaf the Red ; and they placed his 
body on a bier, and sturdy warriors carried it back 
to the castle of Hilderbrand, and by it walked the 
young king, Wliite Olaf, the crown on his head ; and 
by his side, as the lord of all jarls of Norroway and 
Jarl of all the West Coast, walked the man who had once 
worn thrall-collar and been neatherd of Hilderbrand. 

Now this is how Jarl Olinson went holmgang with 
Blackwolf the Viking, and how White Olaf brought 
home Red Olaf, his father. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


271 


CHAPTER XXIV 

HOW JARL AND WHITE OLAF CAME TO HELP HILDER- 
BRAND 

W HEN wicked Harold Wolfang had so cruelly 
stabbed the poor king, Red Olaf, he hastened 
away as fast as he could and went to the great swamp 
in which Red Sweth had built his house ; but remem- 
bering his former experience he did not fail this time 
to cross by the right path, as he had done before ; and 
when he got to the house there sat his father and 
Crawilla warming their toes at the fire, and laughing 
to. think of all the sorrow and trouble which they 
had brought by their spells upon the land of Norro- 
way. 

Indeed so certain were they that all was going well, 
that they had not taken the trouble to send messengers 
to learn tidings ; or perhaps they would not have been 
quite so cheerful. 

But they did not know that Jarl had come back, 
and they did not know that the brave Viking chief 
had made friends with Olaf and taken his men away. 
No, they thought there would be a dreadful slaughter, 
and that Blackwolf and his warriors would surely 
overcome Red Olaf, and defeat the warriors of Norro- 
way. 

For they had read in the crystal runes that Red 


2/2 


THE SAGA OF 


Olaf should lose his life in the battle, and they never 
questioned how this would be. 

“Well, there they sat, and they both jumped up 
when Wolfang came in, and began questioning him. 

“ What news ? ” they cried. “ Is Olaf defeated 
and has Blackwolf won the day ? ” 

“ / have won the day,” answered Wolfang proudly. 
“I, not that great silly Blackwolf, have won the 
battle ; and I have killed Red Olaf.” 

Now at this Crawilla and Red Sweth looked at each 
other in surprise, for they could hardly believe that 
Harold Wolfang had overcome a great warrior like 
Red Olaf. 

But Wolfang said again — 

“ I tell you that I have slain Red Olaf, and I left 
the fight to come here and tell you, for now that the 
king is dead there is no doubt that Blackwolf will win, 
and as I saw that there was no need for me to stop, I 
came on at once.” 

“ But how did you manage to kill the king ? ” asked 
the warlock, and Wolfang burst out laughing. 

“It was such a joke,” he declared, and he told how 
he had managed to wound the Red Olaf wliile he was 
fighting with Blackwolf. 

Then Red Sweth and Crawilla laughed and chuckled 
and capered about in delight, for they felt quite cer- 
tain that all their plans would go well soon now. 
And they praised Wolfang for his cunning and pro- 
mised him all manner of nice things. 

“ Well,” said he, “ if you are going to talk like that 
there is one thing I want at once. Just send and tell 
Ulf the Giant to bring Droma of the Golden Hair and 
give her to me.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


273 

“ Very well,” answered Sweth, but Crawilla stopped 
him. 

“ Wait one moment, Sweth,” she cried, “ There 
is something to be thought of first.” 

“ That is like you,” grumbled Wolfang. “ You 
are always making some excuse to get out of keeping 
your word. I shall not have anything more to do 
with you, you old ugly witch.” 

But Crawilla answered him with a laugh and a 
sneer — 

“ Don’t you be foolish, Wolfang. You need more 
than Droma of the Golden Hair, and I want you to 
have more than Droma. I want you to be ruler of 
Norroway, and have all the jarls obey you ; and if 
that is to be done, you cannot stop to marry Droma 
yet.” 

“ Why not ? ” he asked, and Crawilla replied — 

“ Because when Blackwolf has defeated Olaf and 
routed his army, he is sure to march to the castle of 
Jarl Hilderbrand and attack it.” 

“ Well, what is that to do with me ? ” answered 
Wolfang. “7 am not going to help old Jarl Hilder- 
brand, so there now.” 

“Nor do I want you to aid him, Harold Wolfang,” 
said the witch. “ But do you think that if once the 
Viking conquers Hilderbrand he is going to give up 
Norroway to you ? Oh dear no, he will not do that ! 
He will just keep it for himself, and either kill you 
or make you one of his under-jarls ; and very likely 
he will take Droma of the Golden Hair for himself.” 

Now at this Wolfang looked very glum, and Red 
Sweth very blue ; and they did not know what to 
answer, for indeed what Crawilla said was true, and 

s 


274 


THE SAGA OF 


it was most likely that Blackwolf would make him- 
self ruler of the land, and take the beautiful Droma 
to be his wife. 

So at last after they had looked at each other for 
some time, without being able to think of anything 
except how ugly each other was. Red Sweth said — 

“ Tut ! Tut ! Dear me ! Odds boddikins ! 
Tut ! tut ! ” and you must know that when a wizard 
says that, things are very serious indeed. 

“Tut! Tut!” said Red Sweth. “Odds boddi- 
kins, but this is a sorry business ! Crawilla, what do 
you advise as the best thing to be done ? ” 

“ There is only one thing to do,” answered the 
witch, “ and that is, we must take the castle before 
Blackwolf can get there, and then when he comes, after 
killing all our enemies, we can kill him and make 
things comfortable.” 

“ But take Hilderbrand’s castle ! How are we to 
do that, Crawilla ? ” cried Wolfang, for he saw 
fighting here, and as you know he did not love the 
man’s game, for he was a nithing.” 

“ We cannot do it unless you are going to be a little 
braver than you are now,” sneered the witch. “ I 
declare that the moment one begins to talk about a 
little danger, you turn white and tremble like a piece 
of ice cream on a warm plate.” 

“ I don’t ! ” shouted Wolfang in a rage. “ I am 
the bravest warrior in all the land.” 

“ Come, come, don’t you two waste time quarrelling,” 
put in the warlock. “ You, Crawilla, tell us your 
plan, for we must act quickly if we are going to act 
at all.” 

“ You are right. Red Sweth.” answered Crawilla. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


275 

“ Well, this is my plan. First we will send messengers 
to the castle with tidings that Red Olaf is slain and 
all the army routed, and this will discourage Hilder- 
brand and his men. Then we will summon all the 
wicked gnomes and trolls who obey me and delight 
in mischief, and we will make them take the forms 
of the Viking’s soldiers, and march against the castle ; 
and we will summon Hilderbrand to yield.” 

“ Yes, yes,” cried Red Sweth in delight. “ Oh, 
Crawilla, what a head you have got ! ” 

“ Then,” the evil old witch went on, “ if he yields 
we will go in and quietly kill them all.” 

“ But suppose he donH yield ? ” put in Wolfang un- 
easily ; “ how then, witch ? ” 

“ Then we will take the castle by storm.” 

“ That will be a very nasty thing to do, and some 
one may get hurt,” said Wolfang, and again Crawilla 
laughed and sneered. 

“ Look here, Harold Wolfang, if it is not worth 
taking the risk, it is not worth winning Droma and the 
kingdom of Norroway for your own. You have 
got to take your share of the trouble ! But it won’t 
be anything like th6 bother you fear. How can 
Hilderbrand and his men hope to conquer our trolls, 
who are fairies ? They will soon lose heart and flee, 
and when the Viking comes we shall be there already 
to give him his supper.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Red Sweth in glee. “ Oh, 
what a lovely plan. Oh ! Crawilla, what a clever witch 
you are ! Now, Harold, you are not to look so sulky, 
or perhaps you may get your little head chopped off. 
Now just look cheerful as if you were going to have 
your photo taken, and we will get to work at once.” 


THE SAGA OF 


276 

Then the witch and the warlock put on their best 
magic caps and robes and took their magic wands, 
and they began waving them over the bog, and utter- 
ing all manner of awful charms that sounded as if 
they were saying the multiplication tables in short- 
hand, while they had very bad colds in their noses 
and their mouths full of hot pudding ; and Wolfang 
looked on in surprise, waiting to see what would 
happen next. 

And then, dear me, it was very remarkable ! From 
the bog there came a whole crowd of little things 
like ants, as black as black could be. They swarmed 
up in clouds, and they nipped Harold Wolfang’s legs 
most spitefully as they passed him. 

And others came flying from the forest and from 
the hills — great black swarms of them — and as soon 
as they reached the place where Crawilla stood, they 
changed into evil, grinning, chattering, squinting, 
wriggling, twisting squirming, snapping, snarling, 
biting, crawling, scratching, growling, grumbling, 
squealing gnomes and elfs. Really she must have 
had every wicked sprite in the world there ; and 
however they all managed to crowd into that room 
I cannot tell. 

But they did, and they cried out — 

“ Hail, Crawilla, what do you want with us ? We 
hope you have got some mischief for us to do and 
some evil to work.” 

“ Mischief and evil have we for you, O sprites,” 
answered Crawilla. “You need not fear. We will give 
you such tasks as you delight in. Now attention.” 

“ Four of you change into men of Red Olaf’s army, 
and speed to the castle of Jarl Hilderbrand, and tell 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


277 


every one that the king is slain and the prince a 
prisoner, and the army scattered, Make the hearts 
of all men weak as water, and tell them that Black- 
wolf the Viking is coming with his army to destroy 
the castle and slay all who dare oppose him.” 

“We obey,” cried four of the gnomes and off they 
sped. 

“Now the rest of you take the shapes of men, 
fierce Vikings, and one of you take the shape of Black- 
wolf himself and one that of Jarl Olinson ; and then 
you are all to march to the castle and you are to attack 
it and destroy all the people, and make grief and 
trouble.” 

“ Hurrah,” shouted the gnomes. “ Oh ! we shall 
have a nice time ! Come, brothers, let us obey 
Crawilla.” 

Then those evil sprites became great fierce-looking 
Vikings, armed with all the weapons for playing the 
man’s game ; and they marched off to obey the witch 
and destroy the castle of Jarl Hilderbrand. 

Now Hilderbrand himself had received the message 
of the four sprites who looked like Red Olaf’s men ; 
and very sad at heart was he, that his old friend and 
his king and lord should have perished, while he was 
away from his side. But he called all the garrison 
together, and among them was Olin, the father of 
Jarl ; and he made known to them the tidings he had 
learnt, and he said — 

“ He who fears to tarry, let him go. He who desires 
to join the forces of Blackwolf the Viking, let him 
go. But he who will dare the war game, and will play 
the man’s part valiantly, as hero should, let him 
tarry with me. It may be that this shall be our last 


THE SAGA OF 


278 

fight, and that we shall be slain and go to the storm- 
land, but hereafter the skalds shall sing our praises 
and tell to all men how we died for the king and for 
our land of Norroway.” 

So Jarl Hilderbrand said; but not one man of all 
there moved from his place to either flee, or go and 
join the Vikings who were coming. But instead, they 
drew their weapons and shook them in the sunlight 
and shouted — 

“ Skoal to Jarl Hilderbrand and Skoal to the 
Northland ! Here will we abide and play the man’s 
game, and here will we fight our last fight if need be. 
Yet if we go to the stormland, surely we will not go 
alone, but many of the Vikings shall go with us.” 

And Olin said, as he leant on his spear — 

“What would I give if my son Jarl stood beside 
me this day, to take part in the fight.” 

Now Hilderbrand heard these words, and he an- 
swered — 

“ Alas, that Jarl was ever sent away. It is as the 
three troll princes said and it was a bad day for 
Norroway when Jarl Olinson was made nameless and 
landless man.” 

Well, soon there came in sight the army of trolls ; 
and it seemed as if Wolfang and Blackwolf the Viking 
rode at their head, and men cried out and shook their 
fists and said — 

“ Look at the nithing and traitor, Wolfang ! Look 
at the man who was beaten by a thrall, and bound 
on the back of his own horse ! Blackwolf, thou hast 
a valiant warrior to aid thee lead thy forces ! ” 

Oh ! how angry was Wolfang as he heard these 
words, and he commanded the trolls to halt and 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


279 


he rode up to the walls of the castle and cried — 

“Listen to my word, Jarl Hilderbrand, and ye 
who fight with him for Norroway. Red Olaf is slain 
and the army is defeated, and we are come hither 
to take the king’s land for our own. Now if ye yield 
it shall be well, and ye shall be spared ; but if ye 
refuse, the castle shall be given to flame and sword 
and ye and your wives and children shall die. Now 
if old Hilderbrand refuses to listen to you, cast him 
down from the wall, and come out and make friends 
with Blackwolf the Viking.” 

“ Take care, Harold Wolfang, there is a werewolf 
coming,” cried a woman from the wall, and at this all 
men laughed. 

“ Mind that Jarl Olinson does not come out to 
thee, Wolfang,” shouted a man, and again the laugh 
of scorn was raised ; and then Olin sprang on to the 
turret and hurled a spear at Wolfang; and when he 
saw that, the nithing put up his arm and dodged ; and 
again all men laughed. 

“ Do not be frightened, most brave Wolf .vng,” said 
Olin, “ the spear has no head on it, and it cannot 
harm thee. Get thee back to thy companions, 
nithing and traitor, and tell them that all true men 
here will stand by their Jarl and will play the man’s 
game, and give hard blows to all who come and ask 
for them.” 

“ And remember also, Harold Wolfang,” said Jarl 
Hilderbrand, “ that if thou dost venture within this 
castle and I can but lay hands on thee, then I will 
hang thee from the battlements for all men to look 
upon and scorn, and this is my last word to thee.” 

Well, nearly choking with rage, Wolfang rode back 


28 o 


THE SAGA OF 


to his army and commanded the attack to commence ; 
and the trolls swarmed forward and began seeking to 
mount the walls. 

Right valiantly did those within defend the place, but 
alas! how could they fight against trolls who, the 
moment they were killed came to life again and began 
fighting harder than ever ? 

Arms grew weary and weapons grew blunt, and still 
the fight went on, and even the women and children 
did their part and were as brave as the men, seeking 
to drive the hated Vikings from the castle of their 
Jarl. 

But alas ! the red flames burst from the roof and the 
sword sang its death-song in the courtyard, and 
Hilderbrand thought that this was surely his last 
fight. 

And as he stood there, behold a warrior came to his 
side — one slight of form and beautiful to look upon — 
and as Hilderbrand gazed he saw that it was Lady 
Gunhilda the Fair, who had put on man’s war-gear 
and had come to fight beside her lord. 

And Hilderbrand took her in his arms and kissed 
her, and said — 

“ Sweet love, my lady. This is a rough place for 
you.” But Gunhilda said — 

“ O, husband, the place for me is by your side, let 
the game be as rough as it will. I have brought 
trouble, I have made our dear daughter Droma to be 
lost, I have made Jarl, the son of Olin, to be made 
nameless and landless man, so that instead of fight- 
ing for us, perchance he fights with these our foes ; 
and now it is thy last fight, and what cares Gunhilda to 
live after her lord is gone to the stormland ? There- 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


281 


fore, Jarl, I have come to fight by thy side ; and when 
thou art slain, then will I also die and be with thee.” 

“ Fair lady and love,” said Hilderbrand, “ let it be 
as thou sayest. Thou art a Jarl’s wife, and thou 
art a king’s daughter, and this is a good thing thou dost, 
and one that the skalds shall sing as long as the land 
lasts.” 

Now, as I have told you, Crawilla in her wickedness 
had made one troll to look like Jarl Olinson, and as the 
fight went on, Hilderbrand saw this one, and he 
pointed him out to Olin and said — 

“ Olin, there is thy son ; behold he fights against 
his father and for our foe. But Olin laughed and 
answered — 

“ There is witchcraft here, O Jarl ! For if my 
son should so forget his troth as to fight against his 
father, and against his Jarl and the father of his love, 
would he also forget his troth-word to his friend and 
brother. White Olaf ? W’ell, suppose he even did 
that, Jarl, I will tell thee what my son would never 
do.” 

“ What is that, Olin ? ” asked the Jarl, and Olin 
replied — 

“ If my son forgot aU his troth, and fought against 
his friends, he would never forget his hate and fight 
for his enemy, Harold Wolfang. Rest thee content, 
Jarl, that when my son and Wolfang meet there will 
be hard blows and sharp wounds, but not hand- 
grasp and peace.” 

“Thou art right, Olin,” cried the Jarl. “This is 
witchcraft, and these are demon foes against whom 
we may not prevail. Yet we will not yield, but will 
fight our last fight like heroes.” 


282 


THE SAGA OF 


Now the trolls clustered round the men of Hilder- 
brand in crowds and Lady Gunhilda was struck down, 
and her husband and Olin stood over her and covered 
her with their shields, and made their swords sing the 
death-song as they whistled through the air, and the 
troll that looked like Jarl came at Olin and strove to 
wound him. 

“What did I tell thee, Jarl?” said Olin to his 



master. “ Did my son ever raise hand against his 
father ! Have at thee, demon,” and he smote 
fiercely ; so fiercely that his foot slipped and he 
stumbled at the feet of his foe. But before the troll 
could slay him a wondrous thing happened, for over 
the high wall of the castle, as light as a swallow skims 
on the water’s surface, there came a beautiful white 
horse, with sweeping mane and tail, and on its back 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


283 


sat a rider clothed in beautiful armour, who held a 
mighty battle-axe with which he swept the air in 
great circles ; and wherever that axe went round, 
there trolls were damaged beyond repair, and chopped 
into halves and quarters before they knew what had 
happened. 

And the horse kicked and bit and behaved some- 
thing shocking ; and this wonderful rider was by 
Olin’s side, and while the horse whisked Olinupwith 
one switch of his tail the rider sent that troll who 
looked like Jarl this way and that ; for the axe went 
whiss, whirr, thwack, and off came a head, and off 
came a hand, and bang, the troll was cut in two. 

Well, that upset the trolls something shocking, and 
they left all their other foes and began crowding 
round this man, seeking to drag him from his horse 
and spiflicate him. 

But they did not do it ; dear me, no ! 

Bang, bang, bang, went the axe, and “ Ooo 
muvver ! ” went the wicked trolls ; and then in 
through the castle gates came a lot more soldiers, and 
they were led by a noble-looking knight all in white 
armour ; and when Hilderbrand saw him he gave a 
great shout and cried — 

“ Skoal to thee. White Olaf ; welcome ever, yet 
never more welcome than now,” and Olaf answered — 

“ Skoal to thee, Jarl Hilderbrand,” and he chopped 
off a troll’s head at the same moment. 

Now it was soon very clear that these newcomers 
had weapons which the trolls did not like a little bit ; 
and indeed this was so, for when Vryda the Wise knew 
what was going on and what Crawilla had done — 
and it was not very long before she did know that — 


THE SAGA OF 


284 

she called the mountain gnomes to bring fairy weapons 
for some of Olaf’s soldiers ; and then he and Jarl and 
his men hurried on, and came just in time to give 
Crawilla’s army something that they could not eat or 
drink or put in their pockets. 

And they did do it, too ! My gracious ! how they did 
give it to those wicked trolls ! Why the whole court- 
yard was strewn with damaged troll from end to 
end ; and at last all the foe were vanquished and the 
man’s game was ended, and the only thing that made 
them sad was that the nithing Harold Wolfang had 
once again managed to slip off, unseen in the con- 
fusion, and so escape his punishment. 

And when all were gone, Jarl Hilderbrand came up 
to the rider of that wonderful horse, and he said — 

“ Brave warrior, whoever thou art, thou art wel- 
come as friend and brother of Hilderbrand and 
Gunhilda ; but if thou art he whom I think thou must 
the, then thou art doubly welcome.” 

Then the rider raised his helm so that his face could 
be seen ; and all men gave a great shout of joy and 
cried — 

“Skoal! Skoal! Skoal to Jarl the nameless 
and landless.” 

But White Olaf said — 

“ Nay, that is not so, Jarl is neither nameless nor 
landless ; but in addition to his own land which he 
won from the warlock’s son, he is made lord of all 
the jarls of Norroway, and Jarl of all the West Coast.” 

Then for a moment all were silent, for never had 
one man had such honour before ; and this was he 
who had been a thrall of the Jarl who was now by 
his side, and who now bent the knee to him. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


285 


“Hail, lord and jarl,” said Hilderbrand ; but Jarl 
put out his hand and caught Hilderbrand before he 
could do homage ; and there were bright tears in his 
eyes as he said — 

“ Oh! Jarl Hilderbrand, it is not seemly that thou 
shouldst kneel to me, for thou art bravest of the 
brave, and noblest of the noble ; and most honourable 
of all ; and to clasp thy hand in friendship is honour 
to me. Now let us have no empty praises for me. 
But let me have my father’s blessing and my mother’s 
kiss, for these are honours and treasures.” 

So there, while all could see, he who was now great- 
est in all the land of Norrorway, bent his knee to the 
roughly-clad Olin and kissed the wrinkled face of 
Elsper his mother, and did homage to her. 

And then spake Hilderbrand and said — 

“ Lord Jarl, and you, my prince, the victory you 
have gained for us, and we have fought hard. It is 
well that after fighting there should be feasting. 
All men, great and poor, shall feast for three days 
and have joy in the castle and ” 

But then Jarl held up his hand and spake in low 
sad tones, and said — 

“ Oh, noble Hilderbrand, not feasting and joy, but 
sorrowing must there be.” 

“ But why ? ” cried Hilderbrand, “ when we 
have such glorious victory.” 

Then Jarl did not speak, but he went up to White 
Olaf and silently pointed to his helmet, and then bowed 
low on one knee before him ; and as the people looked 
a great sob went up, and old Jarl Hilderbrand covered 
his face, while great hot tears trickled from between 
his mailed fingers ; for there, on the helm of WTiite 


286 


THE SAGA OF 


Olaf glittered the crown of Norroway / And then they 
knew that Red Olaf had fought his last fight, and gone 
to the stormland. 

And all men had loved Red Olaf, rough spoken 
though he was, for he was a warrior and a true king ; 
and low they all bent on their knees and low they 
bowed their heads, and they said as one man — 

“ Skoal to thee. King Olaf the White ! Skoal to 
thee, O King.” 

Now this is how Jarl came to the succour of Hilder- 
brand, and defeated the army of the witch Crawilla ; 
and this is how all the land of Norroway knew that 
Red Olaf was dead, and hailed White Olaf king. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


287 


CHAPTER XXV 

HOW JARL WENT TO SEARCH FOR LADY DROMA 

S O Olaf the Red was dead, and Olaf the White was 
king of Norroway, and they brought the dead 
king to the castle, and made the death-feast, and the 
skalds struck their harps and sang the death-song 
for Olaf the Red, and this is the song they sang — 

Farewell Olaf, king of Norway 1 
Idle is thy sword beside thee, 

Useless is thy spear unto thee. 

Olaf thou hast fought thy last fight. 

To the stormland has thy soul flown ; 

There with heroes art thou feasting. 

There thy deeds art thou recounting. 

All thy glories and thy battles. 

All thy valour in the man’s game. 

All thy prowess in the war game. 

Farewell Olaf — sad we mourn thee ; 

Sad our hearts are that we miss thee. 

Never more will we forget thee ; 

Ever more our harps shall praise thee. 

All thy deeds of valour telling 
To our children and their children : 

How Red Olaf, Norway’s king was. 

How he fought both land and sea-kings. 

How he vanquished jarls and vikings. 

Till the traitor and the nithing 
With his dagger gave the death wound. 

So the spirit brave of Olaf 
From his body fled m anger. 

Sought the stormy halls of Odin, 


288 


THE SAGA OF 


Cried aloud unto the war-god : 

Let not Wolfang, son of Red Sweth, 

Ever enter in Valhalla ; 

Ever enter where the spirits 

Of the heroes hold their praise-feast. 

For his deed be he for ever 
Nithing, traitor held of all men. 

This I claim, O mighty Odin, 

For the wrong that Wolfang wrought me,** 

Then spake Odin, of gods wisest : 

“ Vengeance to the earth belongeth. 

It is past for thete, Red Olaf, 

Here thy soul shall rest in feasting. 

Think no more of Harold Wolfang, 

Of the son of Sweth the warlock. 

For the evil deeds that men do, 

Bring their vengeance to the doer.** 

So the soul of brave King Olaf, 

Rests in peace in Odin’s palace ; 

While the skalds of ancient Norway, 

Ever more loud sing his praises. 

Ever more loud tell the story 
Of Red Olaf, King of Norway. 

This was the death-song which the skalds sang ; and 
when it was ended and the death-feast done, they 
bore Red Olaf to the fiord and they sat him, all dressed 
in his royal robes and war-gear, high on one of the 
war-ships ; and they hoisted the great sail and then 
lit a mighty fire and let the ship sail out on to the 
dark waves, while from the shore they watched it 
burning. 

And all the warriors cried, “ Farewell, Red Olaf ! ” 

And the women and children cried, “ Farewell, O 
Red Olaf ! » 

And from the mountain peaks the eagles watched 
and screamed, “ Farewell, O Red Olaf 1 ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


289 

And the sea gulls as they circled round the ship 
screamed to the dead king sitting alone in his state — 
“ Farewell, O Red Olaf ! ” 

And the dark waves rolled as the wind swept down 
and whispered — 

“Farewell, O King Olaf!” 

But the waves rose higher as the flames roared 



“ * FAREWELL, O RED OLAF.’ ” 


more loud ; and they cried not farewell but “ WeU 
comCy King Olaf ! ” 

And then higher rose the flame and the great ship 
bounded as the wind urged it on, till it was but like 
a great red star shining in the distance. 

And from the shore and from the hills they watched 
and watched with straining eyes, and presently the 
star was gone and only darkness rested on the ocean, 
and then they sighed — 


T 



290 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Farewell, 0 Red Olaf ! ” once more, and went back 
to their homes and their duty ; and this was the 
mourning and the speeding of Olaf the Red, King of 
Norroway. 

Now when they were once more back in the castle of 
Hilderbrand, Jarl said to the old warrior — 

“O, Hilderbrand, when last I was here I was 
nameless man and landless, now I am lord of all the 
jarls in Norroway, and Jarl of all the West Coast 
and surely it shames not if I ask thee now to give unto 
me Droma of the Golden Hair.” 

Now at this all men were silent, for they had not 
told Jarl how Droma was lost ; no, not even White 
Olaf, for first they had been playing the man’s game 
and had no thoughts for other things, and then none 
dared to tell him, for they knew that when he heard 
the heart of Jarl would die and his courage fail. 

And now that the war time was gone and Red Olaf 
was gone also, Jarl had asked for Droma ! 

For Jarl had seen that her seat next to that of 
Gunhilda was empty, nor had she been at the feast, 
and his heart had grown full of fear that she was sick, 
or that she had died. 

So when he had spoken and no man answered, he 
looked round ; and lo ! Olin, his father, had bent his 
head, and Elsper, his mother, was weeping. Also 
White Olaf, the King, his friend and brother, was 
looking sad, while Lady Gunhilda had hidden her face 
on her husband’s shoulder. 

And when Jarl saw this his heart grew very still, 
for he thought, “ Surely Droma of the Golden Hair 
is dead, and they feared to tell me.” 

“ Jarl Hilderbrand,” he said at last, “ as thy heart 


291 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

is true so let thy lips be true this day. Tell me, have 
the skalds sung the death- song for Droma of the 
Golden Hair?” 

Then Hilderbrand answered Jarl and said — 

“ Nay, Jarl Olinson. No death-song has been sung 
for Droma.” 

“Then she is sore sick,” said Jarl. “Sick unto 
death, or surely she would have been here to greet me.” 

But Hilderbrand shook his head and said — 

“ Nay, I know not that she is sick.” 

Then did J arl spring to his feet, and his great sword 
flashed in his hand, and he cried — 

“ Tell me not that any man has carried her away, 
as the jarls of old carried away their brides,” and 
again Hilderbrand answered — 

“ This has not been done.” 

“ Then hast thou married her to another ? ” cried 
Jarl. “ Oh, Hilderbrand! if thou hast done this, then 
is there red war and hate between us for ever.” 

“ Put thy sword away, O Jarl,” answered the old 
man, “ for neither have I done this thing. Yet this 
is true. Droma of the Golden Hair is gone and no man in 
Norroway can tell who hath taken her or how she 
went.” 

So Jarl put his great sword back into its place and 
his hand shook even like a woman’s, and he said 
slowly — 

“ Forgive me that I wronged thee, Jarl Hilderbrand, 
and tell me thy riddle ; for in sooth I cannot read it. 
But this I say — that more to me than land and riches, 
more to me than fame and honour, yea, more to me 
than the friendship of my lord the king, is the love 
of Droma of the Golden Hair.” 


292 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Now,” said White Olaf, “ this is not the place to 
tell the story, for then shall men see that JarPs heart 
has melted and that tears are on his cheeks, and that 
is not good. Therefore, let us go to Lady Gunhilda’s 
chamber and she shall tell the story, for to her is the 
fault, if fault there be, and this shall be her punishment. 
This is the word of the king, and so it shall be.” 

Then Lady Gunhilda rose in her seat and bent to 
the king, and she said — 

“ The word of the king shall be obeyed, for it is a 
wise word and a just word, yet this I say to you, lord 
king, and to you, lord jarl, that Gunhilda has wept and 
mourned for her wickedness, and she has suffered 
more pain than even Jarl may feel ; yea, and she has 
shown her sorrow and donned man’s war-gear, nor 
thought it shame ; and she has played in the man’s 
game by the side of her lord and husband ; yea, and 
had it not been for thee, O lord jarl, Gunhilda had 
been sleeping the death-sleep now.” 

“ Was it thou, O lady, that lay defended by my 
father and Jarl Hilderbrand when the castle was 
besieged ? ” asked Jarl in surprise, and Gunhilda an- 
swered — 

“ Let my lord and husband and thy father say, O 
lord jarl.” 

“ Aye, son,” cried Olin, “ the lady’s word is true.” 

“ It was my sweet love and my lady who came 
to fight and to die by my side, lord jarl,” added 
Hilderbrand proudly, and Jarl bent his knee to Gun- 
hilda, and the king bowed low to her, and they said — 

“Skoal to Gunhilda the Brave and Gunhilda the 
Fair ! ” 

So then they went to Lady Gunhilda’s chamber, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


293 


where the warriors and thralls might not see their 
faces ; and there did Gunhilda tell how she had hated 
Jarl, and caused Droma to be put into the tower ; 
and Hilderbrand also told how the prisoner had been 
taken away by a witch who rode on a green dragon. 

Then did Jarl smite his hands together and cried — 

“ Oh ! would that I had known of this before ; for 
surely this was Crawilla who came and stole away my 
lady and my love.” 

“ Crawilla ! ” cried Hilderbrand. “ Now that was 
the name of the witch of whom the three troll princes 
told me ! Alas, then, Droma is surely killed.” 

“ There is one who could tell me,” said Jarl, “ and 
she will I seek ; and that is Vryda the Wise, who is 
my friend. She will tell me of what has befallen 
Droma.” 

“ She will tell thee, Jarl,” spoke a gentle voice, and 
behold Vryda stood there “ Let not trouble fill your 
hearts, for Droma is unharmed.” 

“Oh ! Vryda, how did the witch manage to steal her,” 
cried Gunhilda, and Vryda looked sternly at her and 
replied — 

“ Oh ! Gunhilda, thou hast repented and thou hast 
played a brave part, and it is not in my heart to 
rebuke thee ; but tell me, what didst thou do with 
the three golden hairs you stole from the head of 
Droma ? ” 

“ I gave them to the fairy who came to me, Vryda,” 
answered Gunhilda sadly. 

“ Fairy ! An evil fairy she ! That was Crawilla 
herself, who has ever been the enemy of Droma and 
of thee. By the power of those three hairs did 
Crawilla carry Droma away.” 


294 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Alas ! alas ! 0 ! Hilderbrand. 0 I Jarl. Dost 
thou not both hate me ?’* sobbed Gunhilda, and all 
her haughty pride and scorn was gone now. 

But Hilderbrand stooped and kissed her and 
answered — 

“ Sweet love, my lady, I hate thee not ; my love 
is thine, as thine is mine, and ever shall it be so.” 

“ And you, lord jarl ? ” she said to Jarl Olinson, and 
he answered also — 

“Nay, Gunhilda the Fair, I hate thee not ; for who 
can ever be wise, or know when an enemy speaks as a 
friend ? ” 

“ But perhaps my Droma is slain,” sobbed Gunhilda, 
and Vryda said — 

“Nay, Gunhilda, I have told thee that she is safe. 
She had the fairy necklet which Jarl gave her long 
ago. Dost thou not remember how then neither witch 
nor dragon could harm her, and so it is now. They 
can keep her prisoner but they cannot harm 
her.” 

“ Vryda, thou hast ever been my friend,” said Jarl. 
“ Now prove thyself so indeed, and tell we where 
I may seek Droma of the Golden Hair ? ” 

“ Perhaps thou wilt fear to seek her where she is, 
Jarl,” answered Vryda, and Jarl said quietly — 

“ Vryda, why do you tempt me ? You know well 
enough that I will seek Droma, let her be where she 
will, and let the peril be what it will. Now, therefore, 
tell me true words and say where she is.” 

“ Jarl hast thou ever heard of Ulf the Giant ? ” 
asked Vydra, and all there stared in surprise. 

“ Aye, that have I done, O Vryda, for my mother 
Elsper used to tell me of him when I was a child and 


JARL THE NEATHERD 295 

say that if I was not good he would came and take me 
away. I thought it but a fable.” 

“ Ulf is no fable, Jarl,” said Vryda, “and in Ulf’s 
keeping is the Golden Haired Droma ; for Crawilla 
thought that no man would dare to seek to free her 
from Ulf, even if they could reach his castle.” 

Then Jarl laughed long and joyously, and he cried — 
“ Oh ! Vryda, were Ulf but one of twenty giants, still 
would I go and still would the love which I have for 
Droma make me strong enough to conquer; yea, 
I will go and fight with Ulf the Giant.” 

“ And I will come with thee, son,” cried Olin ; and 
so said also Jarl Hilderbrand and White Olaf the 
king. 

But Vryda answered forbidding this, and she said — 
“ If Jarl will do this thing he must do it alone, and 
no man may go to aid him, or surely he will be van- 
quished and Droma shall never be freed. Jarl, wilt 
thou go alone ? ” 

“Thou knowest I will, oh Vryda,” answered Jarl, 
without a moment’s hesitation. “ Lord king, I am 
Jarl of all the West Coast and mine is the duty of 
guarding thy shores against the foe. Say, White 
Olaf, wilt thou let thy friend and brother, who is also 
thy jarl, go and seek for Droma, and not think it 
shame that I leave my charge ? ” 

“ Surely thou needest not ask that thing, Jarl 
Olinson,” answered White Olaf. “ Is not thy heart 
already gone after Droma, and shall we keep thy body 
when thy heart is gone ? Go and prosper, O friend, 
and bring the Lady Droma back, and there shall be 
nothing in all my kindgom thou canst ask for but I 
will give it to thee.” 


THE SAGA OF 


296 

Then did Jarl go gladly ; and he bade farewell to 
his father and mother, and to Hilderbrand and White 
Olaf, and he bowed low and he kissed the Lady 
Gunhilda’s hand, and he said — 

“ Weep no more, O Lady Gunhilda, for I will surely 
bring back thy daughter, the Golden Haired Droma, 
or else I myself will never see thy face again.” 

“Jarl is going to fight Ulf the Giant,” cried all the 
warriors as the news spread. “ Skoal to Jarl Olinson ! 
Shall we come and aid thee, O lord Jarl.’ 

“ None may come and aid me,” answered Jarl. 
“ Alone must I go, and alone must I fight.” 

“ It will be a mighty fight,” growled one grizzled 
old warrior. “ Once have I seen this Ulf, and then 
it was from afar, and he is taller than the turret of 
this castle, and each stride he takes covers an arrow’s 
flight. Skoal to thee, Jarl Olinson ; and may thy arm 
be strong as thy heart is brave.” 

“Skoal to thee, my friends,” answered Jarl; and 
then, clad in all his war-gear, and with the great 
axe and sword on thigh and at saddle-bow, he sprang 
on to Windswift’s back and galloped off. 

Now this is how Jarl, the son of Olin, went to rescue 
Droma of the Golden Hair from the power of Ulf the 
Giant. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


297 


CHAPTER XXVI 


HOW HAROLD WOLFANG WENT TO STEAL DROMA AND 
MET JARL 



OW if ever there was an angry man that man 


was Harold Wolfang when, after he managed 
to escape from the courtyard of Jarl Hilderb rand’s 
castle, he went back once more to the home of his 
father, the warlock. 

And if ever there was an angry warlock it was 
Red Sweth ; and if ever there was an angry witch 
it was Crawilla, for all her trolls were damaged, and 
chipped, and cracked something shocking. 

Why ! I don’t believe that there was one perfect 
among all that escaped ; for what with Jarl’s big axe, 
and White Olaf’s sword, and the weapons which 
Vryda had given to the king’s soldiers, they had 
damaged that army of wicked trolls that awful that 
they were no good even to sell to the rag man. They 
just came crowding in, some with half a head, and 
some with no head, and some without any arms or 
legs, and they all began to cry — 

“ Boo-hoo ! Boo-hoo ! Oh ! Crawilla, we have 
been treated that dreadful you can’t think, and we 
are damaged something awful, and now you and Red 
Sweth have got to mend us right away. Oh ! 
Boo-hoo, Boo-hoo ! ” 

“ Oh, dear me,” cried Crawilla. “ I am very much 


THE SAGA OF 


298 

afraid, Red Sweth, that things have all gone wrong. 
Oh ! Just look at my trolls ! Get out your tool box 
and put on your glue pot, and start repairing them, 
straight away.” 

Now that made Red Sweth cross, for he felt tired 
and he wanted to have a nap ; and here he had to 
start a nasty messy job of mending broken trolls, while 
all the time Crawilla kept getting in his way and 
grumbling that he was not doing things right. 

Then to add to it all, in came Harold Wolfang in the 
most dreadful temper, and he began kicking the 
damaged trolls out of his way and declaring that 
it was all their fault, and that if they had done their 
work properly they would have won. 

So Wolfang scolded, and Red Sweth scolded, and 
Crawilla scolded ; and the damaged trolls boo-hooed 
till you could not hear yourself speak ; and presently 
Crawilla hit Sweth on his bald head with a hammer, 
and he turned round with a hot sticky glue-brush in his 
hand to hit her back and missed her, and caught 
Wolfang an awful one right in the eye, and nearly 
bunged it up with scalding glue. 

And then, oh dear me ! how Wolfang did go on to 
be sure, and he gave the warlock such a dreadful 
thwack with his axe that Red Sweth turned right head 
over heels, and came down with his bald pate sticking 
into his caldron, so that they had to pull him out by 
his feet. 

Well, that didn’t make his temper any better, but 
it made Crawilla laugh ; and Sweth rushed and got his 
magic wand and began muttering spells and declaring 
that he would turn his son into a frog or a jelly-fish, 
or something horrid ; and he would have done it too, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 299 

if Wolfang had not got frightened and begged his 
pardon. 

Then they got the broom and swept all the trolls 
into one corner, and covered them over with a sauce- 
pan, so that they could not get away ; and the three 
of them sat down to talk things over, and see what was 
best to be done. 

Now it did not take Crawilla long to understand 
why the trolls had been defeated ; and she saw that 
J arl must be back, and that White Olaf, instead of being 
a prisoner, was King of Norroway. 

Then Sweth made a charm and looked inside it, 
and saw how it was that Blackwolf had made peace 
with Norroway and gone home again. 

And very frightened did Sweth and the witch look 
when they learnt all this ; and Crawilla groaned as if 
she had a very bad pain inside, and Red Sweth 
groaned as if his pain was a little worse than hers. 

“ Whatever shall we do now ? ” said the witch. 
“ Jarl Olinson has the tryst weapons, and our trolls 
are conquered, and Blackwolf has gone home, and 
Olaf the White is King. I know what is going to 
happen next.” 

“ Do you ? ” said Red Sweth. “ What is that, 
Crawilla ? Nothing very unpleasant I hope.” 

“ Oh, no,” sneered the witch. “ Not at all — quite 
the reverse. It is only that Jarl Olinson will come 
here and just spiflicate us all three, with those tryst 
weapons.” 

“ Ugh ! Oh dear ! Oh dear ! I DorCt talk in 
that very unpleasant way,” cried Sweth, looking 
dreadfully upset. “ Spiflicate us ! How very un- 
pleasant that sounds ! Oh, what shall we do ? ’ 


300 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Why don’t you do something ? ” suddenly cried 
Crawilla, turning upon Wolfang, who sat sulky in 
the corner. “ Here you are, a great idle thing, always 
getting us into trouble and never doing anything to 
get us out again ! You have had the strength-drink, 
and you ought to do some of the work.” 

“ So he ought,” said Red Sweth. 

“ I have been working all day,” answered Wolfang. 
“ I am tired and want a rest. I think I shall go to 
the seaside for a little holiday.” 

“ You will do no such thing,” answered Red Sweth 
sternly. “You will just obey our orders, or we will 
make that charm right away ; so there now, and that is 
all about it.” 

“ I know what we must do,” said Crawilla. “ Wol- 
fang must go to Ulf and get Droma. Then if Jarl 
comes, we can defy him and say that if he does not 
make peace with us we will kill her.” 

“ Now that is talking sense,” cried Wolfang in de- 
light. “ Yes, I will go for Droma.” 

“ But perhaps Ulf may be in a bad temper and not 
want to give her up,” put in Red Sweth, “ and in that 
case he would just smash Wolfang to jelly.” 

“ Ugh,” cried Wolfang, sitting down very quickly. 
“ I don’t think I will go after all ; I have a most im- 
portant engagement this evening, and cannot spare 
the time. Not that I am afraid. Oh, dear me, no — 
only I cannot spare time.” 

“ You have got to spare time,” snapped the witch, 
and Red Sweth added — 

“ Certainly you have got to or — the charmr 

“ Ugh,” said Wolfang again, wriggling uncom- 
fortably. “ Giants have most awful nasty tempers, and 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


301 


they are very dangerous. Don’t you think you had 
better go, father ? Ulf would be more likely to give 
Droma to you.” 

“ Red Sweth cannot go,” answered Crawilla 
shortly ; “he and I shall have quite enough to do 
here. You have got to go, and that is all about it ; and 
just you be careful and bring Droma here safely, and 
don’t lose her on the way, or you will get spiflicated 
right away, and then killed afterwards.” 

“ Suppose I write a letter to Ulf,” said Red Sweth, 
“ that would do.” 

“ He would not like the trouble of reading it. 
You see there were no board schools when he was a 
giantling, and he is not a very good scholar,” and 
Crawilla shook her head as she spoke. “ No,” she 
went on, “ the best thing will be for me to send my 
magic raven with Wolfang, and let the bird give our 
message. Ulf will know it is from us then, and be sure 
to give Droma up.” 

“ Very well,” answered Red Sweth, “ that is a very 
good idea, Crawilla.” 

So the witch called for her magic raven and Wol- 
fang got ready for his journey, though it was easy to 
see that he did not care about it much. And when the 
raven had flown into the room in answer to the witch’s 
call, it circled round her head three times, and settled 
on her shoulder and tried to peck her long nose, and it 
said hoarsely, or rather ravenly — ^it was not a horse, 
you must understand — 

“ O, Crawilla, what do you want with me ? ” 

“ O, raven, raven,” answered the witch. “Go with 
Harold Wolfang to Ulf the Giant and bid him give 
up Droma the Fair to the warlock’s son ; and give him 


302 


THE SAGA OF 


my magic sign that only he and I and you know of.” 

“ Very well, mistress,” answered the raven with a 
hoarse — raven I mean — chuckle. “ I obey. Come, 
Harold Wolfang, and let us go, for there is much fun 
for me, I can see.” 

Then Wolfang set out, and the raven flew round and 
round above his horse, laughing and chuckling, and 
whenever the horse tried to go slowly he gave it a 
dreadful peck with his long bill, and cried — 

“ Hurry up there, lazy, for there is much fun for me, 
I can see.” 

Well, that made Wolfang feel rather uneasy, and 
he said at last — ' 

“ Why do you say that, black raven, why do you 
say that ? ” but all the raven did was to laugh and 
cry— 

“ Patience, patience, Harold Wolfang, and you 
will know as much as I do.” 

So on they went, and on and on, and at last they 
came to the mountain in which lived Ulf the Giant ; 
and the raven hopped in front, and Wolfang rode be- 
hind him, and they came to the castle which the giant 
had built, and a wonderful and mighty castle it was ; 
and when they got there, there sat Ulf resting on the 
ground, and beside him was Droma of the Golden 
Hair. 

Now when Wolfang saw Droma he cried — 

“ O Ulf, is this the way you obey the commands 
of Crawilla ? Droma is not chained up, and she might 
run away at any time.” 

But Ulf raised his head and answered — 

“ Thou dost say falsely, pigmy. Droma is chained 
with the strongest chain there is.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


303 

“ But I see no chain,” answered Wolfang. “ Where 
is it, Ulf?” 

“ There is no chain to see,” replied the giant. “ But 
Droma has given me her word that if I leave her with- 
out fetters, so that she can sit in the warm sunlight, 
then she will not attempt to run away ; and her word 
of honour is a stronger chain than rings of iron or 
steel.” 

“ Oh, that is silly ! ” cried Wolfang ; but Ulf said 
again — 

“ Think you so, Harold Wolfang ? Were it your 
word of honour, I should think the same, for it would 
be weak as gossamer thread ; but not so with Droma 
of the Golden Hair. But now tell me, pigmy, why 
you have come here ; for if it is to take Droma you 
must answer to me first.” 

“ Oh ! Ulf, do not let him take me,” cried Droma, 
“ for rather would I stay here for ever than go with 
the traitor and nithing, Harold Wolfang.” 

“ Ulf, you must give Droma up to me,” said Wolfang 
rudely, “ for this is the word of Crawilla ; and see, 
here is her raven come to give thee her message.” 

Then the raven hopped up to the giant and whis- 
pered his message in his ear, and Ulf looked grave and 
shook his head ; and he said to Droma — 

“ Droma of the Golden Hair, when I took thee 
from Crawilla I promised that only at her bidding 
would I give thee up. Now behold, she has sent 
message to me that I give thee to Harold Wolfang ; 
and though this grieves me yet must it be done, for 
the word of Ulf has been given and must be kept.” 

Then cried Droma again — 

“ Oh ! Ulf, Ulf, if thou canst not keep me from 


304 


THE SAGA OF 


Harold Wolfang, give me war-gear and weapons, and 
I will fight him and gain mine own freedom.” 

Now at this loud laughed the giant ; and the sound 
of his laugh was like the roar of the storm and the 
crash of the avalanche ; and he said — 

“ Daughter of Hilder brand, thy word pleases me 
well. In my castle is the war-gear of many a man I 
have slain, and thou shalt have of it what thou wilt ; 
and if thou canst overcome Harold Wolfang, then 
thou shalt go free.” 

Then Wolfang glared in anger, but he had no fear ; 
for he had on his magic armour, and besides Droma 
was so slight and frail, and he was so strong that he 
felt quite sure he could easily overcome her, so he 
said — 

“ If thou wilt put this shame on me, Ulf, that I 
must fight a woman, the thing shall be ; and if Droma 
can vanquish me, then as thou hast said, she shall go 
free. But if I vanquish her, what then ? ” 

“ Then,” said Ulf, “ shalt thou take her to be thine 
own, for all me. Now get thee ready, for I will see 
this sport.” 

Then Droma went into the giant’s castle and put on 
a little suit of armour which she found there ; and 
she took the weapons that matched it, though they 
were but slight. And though her hand was frail, her 
heart was strong, and she thought — 

“Now will I make one try for freedom, and if I fail 
then will I surely die ; for I will never go with Harold 
Wolfang.” 

So she came out, and there stood Wolfang waiting 
to fight her, and Ulf said — 

“ Thou dost make a pretty warrior, Droma. Ah, 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


305 


Wolfang, thou wouldst not stand so calm if ’twere 
her lover instead of Droma before thee. If it were 
Jarl Olinson how pale thy cheek would be.” 

“ I would it were Jarl Olinson,” answered Wolfang 
scornfully. “ Then would I slay him for the boaster 
and nithing he is, and carry off Droma afterwards.” 

Then did Ulf laugh again and the raven chuckled, 
and they both said — 



“ Bold words, bold words, Harold Wolfang. It 
is not everyone that can have his wish so easily.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” demanded Wolfang un- 
easily ; and Ulf replied — 

“Thou hast wished that Jarl Olinson stood before 
thee. Have thy wish, for behold he is here^ 

Then Wolfang staggered back in fear, for there 
stood before him a figure he knew only too well ; 

u 


3o6 


THE SAGA OF 


and while Droma of the Golden Hair gave a cry of 
joy, the voice of Jarl Olinson sounded sternly in 
the ears of the warlock’s son, and said — 

“ Greeting to thee, Harold Wolfang. This is a 
fine place for thee and I to go holmgang together.” 

Then did Harold Wolfang know that his time had 
come ; and that the great sword which he once had 
carried himself would now sing his death-song. 

Now this is how Harold Wolfang and Jarl Olinson 
met once again. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


307 


CHAPTER XXVII 

HOW JARL SLEW HAROLD WOLFANG 

N OW after Jarl had left the castle Windswift 
carried him so quickly and surely that he was 
soon right in the heart of the forest once more, and then 
past that and among the mountains. 

And as the fairy horse galloped on, finding no more 
trouble in climbing the steep mountain paths than 
he did in galloping over the green-sward, behold 
there met him the three troll princes, and the fairy 
horse stopped before them. 

“ Greeting, Jarl Olinson,” said they. “ Greeting 
and power to thee in thy warring this day.” 

“ Greeting, O troll princes,” answered Jarl. “ But 
how know you that I am going warring this day ? ” 

“ Hast thou not on war -gear ? ” said Strallo. 

“ Carryest thou not man’s tools ? ” asked Strello. 
“ Ridest not Windswift eagerly ? ” added Strollo. 
Then they all spoke together — 

“ Oh, Jarl Olinson, surely we know that thou art 
going warring ; and we bid thee speed in the man’s 
game.” 

“ Why ” said Jarl, smiling gravely, “ truly, noble 
princes, it is man’s game indeed that I go to play. 
Droma of the Golden Hair has been stolen away.” 

“ Aye,” said Strallo. “ By Crawilla and Red 
Sweth.” 


3o8 


THE SAGA OF 


“And she has been placed in charge of Ulf the Giant.” 

“ That is so,” replied Strello. 

“ And I go to release her,” said Jarl again, and 
then Strollo replied — 

“Jarl Olinson, the arm of Ulf is strong and the 
wrath of Ulf is dire ; he will have to be hero indeed 
who dares face and conquer him.” 

“I am no hero, 0 princes,” answered Jarl. “I 
am but the son of one who was a swineherd and a born- 
thrall, and I have been neatherd and worn thrall - 
collar myself ; yet even for me the skalds have a song ; 
and I am going, as I have said.” 

“ But Ulf may slay thee,” cried the trolls in warn- 
ing ; and at this loud laughed Jarl. 

“ Oh, troll princes, what of that ? A man may 
meet his death riding through the forest — the falling 
branch may slay him ; yet he rides and sings. A 
man may be slain in the war game by a chance arrow 
from a slave’s bow, yet to the war game he goes. 
Ulf may slay me, then shall I die a man’s death, 
fighting a fight that few men would dare ; and I ask 
no better than that the skalds should say that of Jarl 
Olinson.” 

“ Yea, it would be a good death -song,” said the 
princes. 

“ But,” said Jarl, “ I do not know that Ulf will 
slay me ; for love is in my heart, and though love is 
the gentlest of all, it maketh the warrior strong. 
The voice of Droma will call to me to free her, and my 
arm will be mighty.” 

“That is a true word, Jarl,” said the princes. 
“ But thou wilt have two fights and not one, this 
day ? ” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


309 


“ I shall not shrink from one more, princes,” an- 
swered Jarl;“but read me thy riddle, and tell me 
with whom, save Ulf, I must fight to free my love ? ” 

“ There has passed one but an hour ago,” said 
Strallo, “ who is thine enemy.” 

“ Harold Wolfang ? ” cried Jarl. 

“ Even he,” said Strello, “ and he was on his way 
to Ulf to make him give up Droma to him.” 

Now this seemed funny to Jarl, and he had to 
laugh ; for Wolfang was a nithing, and how should he 
meet the giant ? 

But Strollo checked his mirth as he said — 

“Ah, Jarl, remember that Wolfang was accom- 
panied by Crawilla’s raven, who will give the giant the 
pass-word and make him restore Droma to Wolfang.” 

Then Jarl said — 

“ In that case my task is easy, 0 princes. All 
I have to do is to wait for Wolfang as he returns, and 
take Droma from him, without troubling for the 
giant at all.” 

“That is true, Jarl,” Strallo answered, “but it 
means that Droma will be in danger.” 

“ O, princes ! How shall Droma be in danger ? ” 
cried Jarl eagerly ; and the trolls told him how 
Droma was going to put on war -gear and fight Wol- 
fang. 

Then Jarl cried out in grief and anger, for he knew 
Wolfang was coward and cruel and would not hesitate 
to slay Droma if he was angered ; and he said — 

“ O, princes, I may not tarry after what you have 
told me. Farewell — Jarl goes to test your magic 
weapons now,” and while the princes waved him 
farewell he cried to Windswift — 


310 


THE SAGA OF 


“ On, on, dear Windswift. If thou dost love me, 
travel as thou never didst before, for I go to deliver 
my love.*’ 

“ I obey, master,” answered the horse ; and he sped 
along swifter than the wind itself, so that soon he 
came to the place where Ulf’s castle was ; and there 
lay the giant, while his darling Droma, clad all in 
man’s war -gear, was standing facing the hateful 
Harold Wolfang. 

And you know how Jarl stayed them fighting, and 
how he spake to Wolfang, giving little heed to Ulf yet ; 
and Wolfang grew pale and trembled, for he feared 
Jarl almost as much as he feared the giant ; and then 
he thought of another traitor deed to free himself of 
his foe. 

For Jarl had turned to Droma and held her in his 
arms, and his back was towards Wolfang, and in his 
great love he thought nothing of his foe ; and Wolfang 
saw this and he drew his dagger — the same one with 
which he had killed the Red Olaf — and he came behind 
Jarl ; and Ulf looked on, yet not a word the giant 
said, only his face grew black with wrath, for he loved 
not coward deeds. 

But just as the dagger was raised, Droma of the 
Golden Hair saw Jarl’s danger, and she gave a great 
cry of fear and held out her arm to keep the blow from 
Jarl, so that as the dagger fell it struck between the 
pieces of her armour and made a cruel wound in the 
white flesh of Droma ; and then Jarl also cried out, 
for he thought that Wolfang had slain Droma. 

But Droma of the Golden Hair, though her face was 
very white and her lips trembled, yet stood before 
Jarl and smiled, and she said — 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


311 

“ Oh Jarl, dear love, do not look so frightened. 
The dagger went through my arm, and that I do not 
mind ; for else it had struck thee and perchance killed 
thee ; and what would Droma have done then ? The 
wound is little, the loss of her love would be much.” 

But Jarl bore her to the shadow and knelt beside 
her and took off the war-gear from her arm ; and 
there was the deep wound from which the red blood 
fell, and Jarl who had never trembled, trembled now 
and said — 

“ Oh, Droma, my life was surely not worth thy being 
wounded ! ” 

But Droma made light and smiled, and she tore 
a piece from her dress and bound up the wound as 
though it were but a scratch, and she said — 

“Jarl Olinson, go and do thy work, and leave my 
wound for me to tend. Go, for thou hast come to 
free me, and also to slay the murderer of Red Olaf, and 
prove thy friendship for his son.” 

“ Now how didst thou know of all this, Droma ? ” 
asked Jarl ; and Droma smiled again as she answered — 

“ 'W^o taught me the birds’ language but thou, 
Jarl ? I heard the birds talk as they flew by, and 
they told me of all thy doings and how thou art now 
Jarl of all the West Coast and lord of all the jarls, so 
that even my father would bow his knee to thee, 
\ didst thou command it.” 

“ It is a true tale, Droma. Now therefore I will 
do that for which I have come ; and first, as the troll 
princes warned me, I will pay all my debt to Harold 
Wolfang.” 

Now perhaps you will think that Harold Wolfang 
would have run away while Jarl and Droma were 


312 


THE SAGA OF 


talking — ^but he could not do that, though perhaps he 
would have liked to. 

No, he really could noty for Windswift had given 
him a gentle kick and knocked him down, and then 
had sat upon him to keep him out of mischief ; and 
you really cannot run away, when horses are sitting on 
your chest. 

Why, a nightmare on your chest is bad enough ; 
but that’s nothing to a day horse, I assure you. 

But when Jarl left Droma’s side and came towards 
his foe, Windswift got up and then lifted Wolfang up by 
his ear, which made the nithing give a dreadful yell. 

“Well, Harold Wolfang,” said Jarl very sternly, 
“ so after all we are to settle our quarrel with none 
to interfere.” 

“ Ulf ! Ulf ! come and help me,” cried Wolfang ; but 
the giant laughed and the raven croaked. 

“No, no, Harold Wolfang. You desired to meet 
Jarl Olinson face to face and thou hast thy wish now. 
We cannot interfere.” 

Then Wolfang cried — 

“Jarl is a thrall and the son of a thrall, I will not 
fight him.” 

“Jarl is lord of all the jarls of Norroway, and he 
is Jarl of the West Coast,” cried Droma from where 
she sat. “ There is no shame to fight one so noble 
as that, Harold Wolfang.” 

“ A brave maiden ! ” growled Ulf to the raven, and 
the raven answered — 

“ And a goodly man.” 

“ Harold Wolfang,” Jarl went on, “ I am sworn to 
slay thee, and there is no pity in my heart ; and if it 
were so, then the coward’s blow of this day, where- 


JARL THE NEATHERD 313 

by my lady and love hath been wounded, would make 
me turn from all gentle thought. Now stand and 
fight ; for this is, for me or thee, our last man’s game, 
and one of us will be slain here, this morning.” 

Now Wolfang saw that this was a true word, and 
that he must slay Jarl if he would keep his life ; and 
though his heart was filled with fear he rose and 
gripped his shield and took his axe. 

But Jarl laid his axe beside Droma and drew his 
sword, and Ulf cried — 

“ Dost thou not begin the man’s game with the 
war-axe, Jarl Olinson ? ” 

“ Nay, Ulf,” answered Jarl. “Maybe when I fight 
with thee, I shall do so ; but with this nithing I use 
this sword, which I myself won from him ; for with 
this have I said I will slay him, and I will keep my 
word.” 

“ So thou wilt fight me afterwards ? ” cried Ulf, 
lifting his great brows. 

“If thou dost not let the Lady Droma go freely, 
even so,” was the answer, and Ulf said — 

“ Thou art bold to tell me so, Jarl ; for why should 
I not now come and aid thy foe, and make sure that 
thou dost die ? ” 

Then Wolfang, when he heard this, cried out — 

“ That is a wise word, Ulf ; come thou and aid me 
now.” 

But Jarl answered Ulf the Giant — 

“ Thou canst not do this thing, Ulf, for two 
reasons.” 

“ And what are they, Jarl ? ” said Ulf. 

“ First, thou art too brave to seek to overcome 
thine enemy by such a nithing trick as to come against 


314 


THE SAGA OF 


him while he is playing the man’s game with one who 
should be his match.” 

“ Good,” growled Ulf. “ What next, Jarl ? ” 

“ Next, thou art too brave to league with a nithing 
and traitor, and the giver of secret blows ; for he who 
links with such a one must share his shame.” 

“ Good,” cried Ulf again, “ the word is a true word, 
Jarl Olinson. Wolfang, fight thine own fight and 
speed thine own business, for I will not help thee.” 

Then did Wolfang rush at Jarl and his heart was 
full of black rage ; and he put out all the strength 
he had received when he drank the strength-drink, 
and aimed wild fierce blows at his foe, so that Jarl 
had to go warily for the time, yet he laughed and 
said — 

“ Be careful, Wolfang, for there is more after this 
fight than a beating with a boar staff.” 

Not one word answered the warlock’s son ; but 
with eyes blazing with hate he struck at Jarl, and he 
knew as he fought that his death-song was being 
sung by the fairy sword Resolution. 

Yet in his heart there came one last evil thought, 
a thought worst of all, and what that was you shall 
see. 

“Wilt thou spare my life, Jarl Olinson?” he 
asked as they fought, and Jarl answered shortly — 

“ I have told thee that thou or I shall never leave 
here, Wolfang. Fight well, or thy death will be sure.” 

So as they fought, Wolfang gradually drew near 
to where Droma was sitting, and then he shouted 
in wicked glee — 

“Thou wilt kill me, Jarl, thou base thrall; but 
thus I wound and slay thee in thy soul,” and he sprang 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


315 


at Droma and lifted his great axe high with both hands 
to bring it down upon her beautiful golden hair ; for 
she had taken off the helmet she had worn. 

Jarl gave a mighty shout ; and the great sword 
flashed from his hand like a streak of fire ; for he threw 
it, as men cast a javelin, and it smote Wolfang be- 
tween the shoulders, and sank in full half its depth. 

But even that could not stay the blow — the axe was 
raised before the sword wounded, and it fell straight 
and sure — and none might save Droma. 

But surely the good trolls had led Jarl to place his 
great axe Effort beside her. It was a mighty weapon 
for such slender hands to wield, but it was all that lay 
between Droma and the death-sleep ; and the daughter 
of Hilderbrand started up as she saw her peril, and 
seized the mighty weapon that belonged to her lover. 

Up it flashed in her dainty hands, it met the blow 
of the nithing’s weapon, it turned it aside — it went 
round that golden-haired head like a circle of gleaming 
fire, and it smote once full upon Harold Wolfang’s 
helm, just such a blow as he would have dealt herj 

A wonderful blow it was for such weak hands to 
give. It cut through helm and head, and Harold 
Wolfang lay dead ! 

Resolution and Effort had killed him together — and 
perhaps some of you will find out what that means 
if you think long enough. 


3i6 


THE SAGA OF 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

HOW ULF THE GIANT WAS VANQUISHED 

N OW when Ulf the Giant saw that Harold Wolfang 
was vanquished, he rose from the ground where 
he had been lying, and he said to Jarl — 

“ Jarl, son of Olin, truly thou hast fought well, and 
thou hast** conquered thy foe as a brave man should 
conquer ; and thou, too, Droma of the Golden Hair, 
thou hast been brave as the daughter of a brave jarl 
and the love of a hero should ever be ; yet thy task 
is not over yet, for I must also be conquered.” 

Then Jarl said to Ulf — 

“Oh I Ulf, I understand not thy words, for they 
are different from thy manner. Thou seemest as if 
thou wast my friend, and yet you say I must fight 
thee ere Droma can be released.” 

“ I do say that, Jarl,” answered the giant ; “ yea, 
and not only thou, but Droma herself must fight 
with me.” 

Now at this Jarl laughed, and he cried — 

“ Oh ! Ulf, truly thy riddle is too hard for me to 
read. How can a maiden like Droma fight with thee ; 
for she is but weak, and thou art stronger than the 
strongest ? Besides, if I fight with thee and over- 
come thee, why should Droma have to meet thee in 
combat ? Truly thy riddle is hard, O Ulf.” 

“ Yet it is as I say,” answered the giant, “ and I 


317 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

will prove my words true. Look thou on my face, 
Jarl, and if it is not like thine then I need not fight 
with thee.” 

Then Jarl looked on the giant, and as he did so 
he gave a cry of wonder, for truly the giant was so 
like him in face that he could not tell that it was not 
he himself, except that Ulf was so much bigger. 

“ Oh ! Ulf,” he said, “ it is even as thou sayest, 
thy face is like mine ; ” and Ulf answered — 

“ Therefore must thou fight me.” 

“ But why need Droma fight thee ? ” asked Jarl, 
and the giant answered — 

“ Let Droma look on my face, and if it is not like 
hers, then she need not fight with me.” 

Now Droma of the Golden Hair went up to the 
giant, and she too cried out in surprise — 

“ Oh ! Ulf, Ulf, thy word is a true word, for thy 
face is my face.” 

“ Yea,” answered the giant, “ and more than that, 
I am thyself, and I am thy greatest foe unless thou 
canst conquer me, and if thou dost overcome me, then 
I am thy faithful serv^ant and thy best friend, for I 
have another name than that whereby men call me.” 

“ Now what is thy other name, giant ? ” asked Jarl, 
leaning on his sword, and Ulf answered — 

“ Men call me Ulf the Giant, but my name shall be 
written SELF, and I am the worst foe that thou hast 
to conquer, O Jarl,* son of Olin. Moreover, the 
horse I ride is a dread horse, and is called FEAR, 
and if thou canst slay Fear and conquer me, then thou 
hast won thy victories, and thou shalt be happy.” 

Now at this Jarl looked grave, for though he minded 
not fighting himself, he liked not that Droma should 


3i8 


THE SAGA OF 


have the peril of a battle with this great giant. 

“ I would I might fight thee alone, Ulf,” he said, 
but the giant shook his head. 

“ That may not be, Jarl,” was his answer. 

“ But why must we fight ? Thou seemest a friend 
to me, and thou hast praised me for rny deeds.” 

“ My praise is of little value, Jarl,” was the reply. 
“ I always praise, and the evil and ni thing listen to 
my words ; but the brave and wise will not hearken 
till they have conquered me. As for Droma, the 
witch and warlock gave her to me, and she cannot 
go free unless I am overcome.” 

Then Droma said to Jarl — 

“Jarl, beloved, this thing must be done. Even 
if thou didst overcome the giant I might not go, for 
I have given my word, and I cannot break it. I said 
if he would let me be free and unbound, then I would 
not try to escape, and I will keep my word. Now 
Ulf says if I fight with him I may go with you, and 
therefore I will do this thing.” 

“ But you are wounded now,” said Jarl, looking 
very troubled. “ How can you fight, and what 
weapon shall you use ? ” 

“ I will use the great axe. Effort,” answered Droma, 
“ for it is a fairy weapon, and in my hand it seems 
light as a feather.” 

Then Jarl kissed Droma and helped her to put on 
her helmet again, and he tenderly bound the armour 
on her arm, and said — 

“ O, Droma, my brave love, keep behind me and 
let my body shield you from blows.” 

But Droma said — 

“Jarl, beloved, we will share all the peril as we 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


319 


share the joy, for I know that unless we together 
fight this giant and overcome him, we should never 
be happy.” 

“ Now,” cried Ulf, “ will you do battle with me, Jarl 
Olinson ? ” and his voice sounded very fierce and 
dreadful now. 

And Jarl answered without hesitation — 

“ Since I may not take Droma away unless I fight 
thee, Ulf, then will I do as thou sayest ; therefore 
don thy war-gear, and let us begin the man’s game.” 

Now Ulf laughed loudly — 

“ Oh, Jarl ! I don no war-gear save that which I 
ever wear. But I will mount my horse, and then 
we will fight.” 

Then he gave a loud call, and an awful monster, 
that looked like a horse and yet seemed like a dragon, 
came to his side, and Ulf got on his back and took 
a mighty mace of iron, and said — 

“Now, Jarl, I am ready. Look to thyself, for I 
will kill both thee and Droma if I can.” 

But Windswift came to Jarl’s side, and he knew 
that the fairies desired that he should mount, even 
though Droma fought on foot ; so he got on to his 
beautiful steed and drew the great sword Resolution, 
and then the fight began. 

Swift as an arrow did Windswift rush at that great 
horse, and swift as an arrow did the giant aim a blow 
at Jarl ; but the fairy shield was good, and the blow 
fell on one side, and ere it could be repeated the great 
sword had struck well and truly home, and the giant 
cried out in pain. 

But then Droma was not idle, for she ran with the 
great axe, and she smote the giant’s grim steed such 


320 


THE SAGA OF 


a good blow that the horrid monster fell to the earth 
with one of its legs shattered, and Ulf went sprawling 
over headlong. 

Down from the saddle sprang Jarl, and he flourished 
his sword over Ulf, and cried — 

“ Now, Ulf, yield, or I will surely kill thee.” 

But Ulf in answer aimed a blow at him, and it was 
so swift that Jarl could not turn it aside with his 
shield, and it sent him backward, and before he could 
rise Ulf was by his side, with his club raised to strike. 

“ ’Tis my turn now, Jarl,” he laughed, and all his 
kind looks seemed to have fled. “ Yield thou to be 
my slave for ever, or die.” 

“ I yield not,” answered Jarl stoutly, and he drove 
with Resolution again and pierced the giant’s arm 
right through ; and then Droma, who had run to 
aid her lover, gave a mighty blow with the axe, and 
Ulf’s arm fell helpless, for she had cut right to the 
bone. 

“ I am vanquished, Jarl,” he said. “ Now thou 
must slay me.” 

“No, no,” cried Jarl, “that I will not do; and 
Droma said also, “ Nay, we will not kill thee, Ulf.” 

But the giant answered — 

“ Unless thou dost slay me I shall ever be your 
foe ; and when I grow strong again, as I shall after 
my wound is healed, I shall catch you both when you 
do not expect it, and put you to death. Slay me, 
Jarl. You do not love to do this, I know, but you 
must, or you will be vanquished yourself.” 

“ Slay him, Jarl,” croaked the raven, who had sat 
looking on while the fight lasted. “ Slay him, for 
his words are true words.” 


321 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

“ If I must, I must,” answered Jarl. “ But I love 
not the task.” 

“ Droma must smite too,” said the raven, and the 
giant added — 

“ Droma must smite too, for never shall you be 
happy together unless you both kill me.” 



Then Jarl looked at Droma, and her face was very 
pale, but she said — 

“ Jarl, I would do anything to be happy with you, 
though this thing is hardest of all,” and as she spoke 
she raised the axe Effort, and Jarl lifted the sword 
Resolution. 

“ Smite,” cried the raven. 

“ Smite,” cried Ulf, and the sword and axe flashed 
down together, and the great giant fell over dead on 
the green grass. 


X 


322 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Oh, we have killed him ! ” cried Droma ; but 
then, to her surprise, she heard a great laugh, and as 
she and Jarl turned there was Ulf the Giant looking 
as happy and contented as could be, with his head 
stuck on as if the axe had never cut it off, and with 
no great hole in the side where the sword had gone in ; 
and while Jarl and Droma stood silent from surprise, 
he held out one great hand and said — 

“ Do not look so surprised ; Ulf must be killed 
before he can really live.” 

“ But you were alive before,” cried Jarl, and Ulf 
answered — 

“ No, I only seemed to be alive. Now you have 
killed me I am truly alive, and I shall ever be your 
friend and helper, and your servant too. Skoal to 
thee, Jarl Olinson, and Skoal to thee, Droma of the 
Golden Hair, for Ulf the Giant is your friend and 
servant.” 

“ But what of your horrid horse ? ” said Droma, 
and Ulf laughed again. 

“ Look at him,” he cried, pointing to the dead 
horse; and then Jarl and Droma saw that this awful 
creature was only a great donkey, almost blind and 
lame, and its skin had been painted to make it look 
terrible, and it was blown out like a great air-bladder 
to make it look big, and now it was killed, for the 
axe had punctured it something shocking — it had 
all shrunk up, just like a penny air-bladder when 
you stick a pin into it. 

“ Now,” Ulf said cheerfully, “ I think we had better 
go back to the castle. Then, Jarl, I will help you 
conquer the only two foes that remain, and after 


JARL THE NEATHERD 323 

that you will have peace and happiness, and Droma 
of the Golden Hair shall be your bride.” 

“ But who are those foes ? ” said Jarl, and Ulf 
answered — 

“ Red Sweth and Crawilla the witch.” 

“But, Ulf,” answered Jarl, “ surely I can conquer 
them by myself,” and the giant shook his head. 

“No, no, Jarl, you will never fight another battle 
alone, but I shall always help you. Till you con- 
quered me I fought against you, though you never 
guessed it ; but now you have overcome me I shall 
always fight for you, and all my strength will be yours. 
Let us go and finish the task, and then indeed all will 
be well. Indeed, we have not too much time, for the 
witch is seeking to harm Lady Gunhilda, since she 
can hurt no one else.” 

“ Oh, let us go ! ” cried Droma eagerly ; “let us 
go and rescue my mother.” 

“ So we will, Droma,” said Ulf, and he picked her 
up and put her on his shoulder, while Jarl sprang 
upon the back of beautiful Windswift again. And 
away they went, the giant striding with mighty steps, 
and Jarl on his fleet horse ; and so they came from 
the mountains to the plains, and from the plains to 
the castle, and the sentry on the battlements gave 
a great shout, and rushed for Jarl Hilderbrand, with 
the tidings that Ulf must have killed Jarl, and was 
now coming to destroy the castle. 

Now at this Hilderbrand gave orders for the soldiers 
to make ready, and White Olaf the king himself 
went to the battlements to see how best to destroy 
this mighty Ulf; and then he stared as if he could 
not believe his eyes, for there, beside Ulf, Jarl rode 


324 


THE SAGA OF 


on his white horse, and there on the giant’s shoulder, 
smiling and waving her hand to him, sat Droma of 
the Golden Hair, as safe and happy as could be. 

Surely then there was no need for alarm, for Ulf 
could not be coming as a foe, or Droma would not 
smile, and Jarl would not ride by his side ; and though 
he could not read the riddle. White Olaf ran back 
to the old jarl to bid him be of good cheer, and to tell 
him that Ulf the Giant was bringing the beautiful 
Golden-Haired Droma safely home again. 

Now this is how Ulf was vanquished ; and if any 
of you children do not quite understand this chapter, 
perhaps if we have time, and have not used up all the 
paper, and if Mr. Printer will allow it, well, we will 
just ask a few questions about it when all the story 
is over. I think — mind I only think — that we shall 
find it is one of the pills in jam I told you about in 
The Admiral and /, one of those morals hidden away 
in a tale. But there, we will wait and see about that 
afterwards. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


325 


CHAPTER XXIX 

HOW LADY GUNHILDA THE FAIR WAS MISSING 

N OW you may be sure that the tidings that Ulf 
the Giant was bringing the lovely Droma back, 
and that J arl was riding beside him as his friend, soon 
spread all through the castle, and the people flocked 
out to see this strange sight, and old Jarl Hilderbrand, 
with his snow-white hair flowing from beneath his 
helmet, and with his great spear in his hand, came 
striding from the gates, the king by his side. 

And when they came near to Jarl, Hilderbrand 
raised his spear and said — 

“Greeting to thee, Lord Jarl,” and Jarl answered, 
“Greeting to thee, Jarl Hilderbrand and to King 
Olaf he bent low in his saddle and cried — 

“ Greeting to thee. White Olaf the king.” 

And the giant Ulf said in his mighty voice — 

“ Greeting to thee. King Olaf ! Greeting to thee, 
Jarl Hilderbrand ! Skoal to beautiful Norroway, 
the land of heroes,” and then he gently lifted Droma 
from his shoulder and set her on the ground, so that 
her father might embrace her. Well, there, you 
never saw people so glad. Grim old warriors, who 
had loved nothing but the man’s game, waved their 
weapons and shouted, and they looked in wonder at 
the great Ulf, and said that surely such a man had 
never been seen in the land before. 


326 


THE SAGA OF 


But Hilderbrand said that it was not time for 
staring and asking of questions, but that they must 
feast first, and that the skalds must sing new praise 
songs for Jarl who had done this great deed and met 
the giant; and then Jarl laughed and cried — 

“ Not so, O Jarl ! He who sings praise songs for 
me must sing double their number for Droma, the 
Golden Haired, for there is not another woman of all 



THE SOLDIERS TOOK DROMA AND PLACED HER ON THEIR SHIELDS.” 


the land of Norroway who would have done the deeds 
she has done ; and see,” he went on, pointing to the 
dear little arm which was all wounded and bleeding, 
“ Droma bears the tokens of the war game as well 
as the best warrior who ever lifted spear,” 

Then all the people shouted again, and they all 
went back to the castle ; but the soldiers took Droma 
and placed her on one of their shields, and then they 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


327 


raised the shield to their shoulders, and so they carried 
her, laughing and blushing, into her father’s halls once 
more, cr3dng all the while — 

“ Sko^ to Droma the brave ! Skoal to Hilder- 
brand’s beautiful daughter.” 

Then Hilderbrand called for Gunhilda to come and 
welcome the victor, Jarl, and to receive back her 
daughter ; but, alas ! alas ! though he called, no 
Lady Gunhilda answered, and though they searched 
no Lady Gunhilda could be found. Then loudly did 
the old Jarl mourn, for dearly he loved his wife ; but 
Jarl said — 

“ Mourn not, Jarl Hilderbrand. The foes who 
tried to harm Droma and me have carried Lady Gun- 
hilda away. Ulf told me, even as we journeyed, 
that she was in peril. This is no feasting time ! I 
will go at once and seek her.” 

“ But where will you seek her, Jarl ? ” cried Hilder- 
brand, “ and who has dared to carry the Lady Gun- 
hilda away ? ” 

“ Your foes and mine, Hilderbrand, was the answer ; 
“ and they are Red Sweth and that wicked witch, 
Crawilla. I will seek the warlock, swift as my good 
steed will carry me, and surely he shall die, and the 
Lady Gunhilda shall be avenged.” 

Then without waiting for any to answer, Jarl seized 
his war-axe and his other weapons, rushed to the 
stables, and leaping on to Windswift’s back, he gal- 
loped away as fast as he could go. 

But Ulf the Giant also rose — 

“Jarl must not go to fight alone,” he said. “I 
must be there to aid him if need be.” 

“ I will go,” said Hilderbrand, “ for this quarrel 


THE SAGA OF 


328 

is mine, and not his, and I will slay the warlock.” 

“ I, the king, will go too,” added White Olaf, while 
Lady Droma said — 

“Now I have fought by my love’s side, and I have 
on the war-gear now, and I also will go, and Ulf shall 
carry me, for he walks faster than the fastest horse 
can gallop.” 

So Ulf laughed and he picked up Droma and 
Hilderbrand, and the King also, as if their weight 
was nothing to him. 

“ Your words are true words. Lady Droma,” he 
said. “ I can carry you swifter than war-horse can 
gallop, and I will bear you safely to the warlock’s 
house.” 

And had Crawilla really got Lady Gunhilda, perhaps 
you will want to ask ? Yes, really and truly, and 
I must tell you how she managed to do it. You 
remember that she had persuaded Gunhilda to give 
her three hairs from her own head. Well, it was 
with these that she worked the charm which enabled 
her to carry off Jarl Hilderbrand’s wife. 

You must know that after Harold Wolfang and 
the raven had gone, Crawilla and Red Sweth sat 
talking and grumbling because things had gone so 
very wrong, and like all such people do, each blamed 
the other for the trouble. Crawilla declared that it 
was all because Red Sweth did not know his business 
properly. 

“ You can’t make charms and spells,” sneered the 
witch. “You want to go and be apprenticed again, 
and learn how to do things properly. Why, I have 
a broom-stick that can do the work better than you 
can.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


329 


That made Red Sweth get into a rage, and no 
wonder, for he considered himself far and away the 
best wizard in the land. 

“ I do not value your opinion very much,” he 
retorted in lofty tones. “ You would not know a 
charm if you saw one.” 

“Not one of your charms,” said Crawilla spitefully, 
and Red Sweth went on, more angry than ever — 

“ Well, they are better than yours. You have 
no charms of any kind.” 

Dear me ! that was an awfully impolite thing to 
say to a lady, though, wasn’t it, and Crawilla went 
bottle-green-blue in her temper. 

“ You nasty, horrid, wicked, squinty-eyed old war- 
lock,” she said. “ I will show you if I can’t make 
charms — I will show you — Hi ! Mumbo- Jumbo, hi, 
cockylorum, boo.” 

“ Yah ! Yowwow ! ” shrieked Red Sweth, jumping 
off his chair as if some one had stuck a hat-pin into 
him. “ Oo ! oh ! Crawilla ! ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Crawilla. “ You didn’t 
like that one, eh ? Made you feel a little bit 
surprised, eh ? Shall I try another, or will you 
give me best ? Charms indeed ! I will show you 
about charms — ha ! ha ! ” 

“ Ugh ! Oh ! oh ! ” groaned Red Sweth, rolling 
his eyes up dreadfully. “ Oh ! oh ! ” 

‘ Well, what’s the matter ? ” answered the witch, 
somewhat surprised. “ I have not got a charm on you 
now ; and that one I used was not so strong as all 
that. Come, now, you are only shamming.” 

“ I ain’t shamming,” groaned the warlock dismally, 
“ and it isn’t your stupid old charm at all.” 


330 


THE SAGA OF 


“ What ! ” cried the witch, “ not my charm ! Oh, 
no, of course not. It’s a sudden attack of indigestion, 
is it not ? I have heard that story before, you know.” 

“ I say it is not your stupid old charm. Y ou couldn’t 
make a charm that could hurt me ! And it’s not 
indigestion. Oh ! Ooo ! ” 

“ Then what is it ? ” asked Crawilla, very perplexed, 
for indeed Red Sweth looked very bad. 

“ It’s Harold Wolfang ! It’s my son ! I made a 
spell so that I should know just how he got on in the 
fight — I should feel when he slewed Jarl.” 

“ Well,’’ cried Crawilla anxiously, “ has he slewed 
him ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! Alas ! no ! Jarl has been and slewed 
Wolfang.” 

“ Wh-wh-wh-what ? ” screamed Crawilla ; “ and 

he has not got Droma ! Oh, did you ever ! ” 

“No, I never ! ” answered Red Sweth. “ Oh ! 
Jarl has punctured him just below the middle button, 
and I can feel it ! And he has jabbed him in the back, 
and I can feel it ! And he has cracked his head open, 
AND I CAN FEEL IT ! I am cracked.” 

“ That’s nothing new,” said Crawilla, who could 
not resist the temptation to say something spiteful. 
“ If you have only just found that out, I knew it long 
ago. And is Wolfang deaded, quite dead ? ” 

“ Absolutely spiflicated ! ” groaned the warlock. 
“ I can feel it ! Oh ! I wish I had not made that spell.” 

“ Then I fear we shall be spiflicated ourselves before 
very long,” said Crawilla. “ I knew how it would be, 
trusting to him ! Here, let us look in our magic 
looking-glass and see just what is taking place — per- 
haps Ulf will kill Jarl.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


331 


So Crawilla got out her magic mirror, which showed 
her everything that was not taking place, and there 
she and Sweth saw the combat between the giant and 
Jarl and Droma, and they saw the two slay the great 
monster, and then watched the giant come to life 
again and make friends with Jarl, and at this 
they both trembled and looked very dismayed. 

“ There you are ! ” said Sweth. “ It was your idea, 
and see what has come of it. Everything you have 
tried has turned out wrong ! You said, ‘ Get the troll 
princes to tempt Jarl.’ Nice thing that was ! You 
said, ‘ Get Blackwolf to come.’ Nice thing that was ! 
You said, ‘ Steal Droma.’ Nice thing that was ! You 
said, ‘ Send Wolfang.’ Nice thing that was ! Nice 

THING YOU ARE ! Oh, you Ugly, freckled-faced ! ” 

But Crawilla did not wait to hear any more ; she just 
caught him a dreadful crack with her wand and knocked 
him over, so that he feU with his head in the coal- 
scuttle ; and then she rushed across the room and got 
out a furnace and some other things. You see you 
want the “ some other things ” in an exciting part 
like this, and she lit up the furnace and put the other 
things into it, and the other things fizzed, and flamed, 
and sputtered, like sausages in a frying-pan, and smelt 
about as unpleasant ; and then, just as Red Sweth 
picked himself out of the coal-scuttle, she threw the 
three hairs from Lady.'Gunhilda’s head in, and she cried — 
“ By the might of my magic spell, and by the charm 
of the three hairs, let that one from whose head they 
came appear now,” and then all of a sudden there was 
Lady Gunhilda in Red Sweth’s room, and I do not know 
which looked most surprised, the warlock or Jarl 
Hilderbrand’s wife. 


332 


THE SAGA OF 


It was very awkward for Lady Gunhilda ; she had 
just been changing her dress for dinner, and doing up 
her back hair with curlers, and making the twiddly- 
bits in front with curling tongs, and all the other 
remarkable things that a lady does when she dresses 
for dinner. 

So different from boys, you know ! They just give 
their faces a rub with the wet sponge, and if they can’t 
find the sponge handy they leave that bit out ; then 
they give their hair two dabs with the brush and one 
with the comb, and if they cannot find the brush and 
comb handy they leave that bit out as well ; and then, 
there they are, you know, all ready. But the girls ! 
Oh, well ! There, dear me ! 7 can’t think for the 
life of me what they do to take so much time ! Why, 
if they want to go out to-morrow, they begin dressing 
the day before yesterday. 

I beg your pardon ! What was that ? Did I hear 
that girl in the corner say that I was a horrid mean 
thing and a story teller ? Oh ! very well, I will talk 
to you presently, miss, and 

Here, I say, this won’t do ! We are telling the saga 
of Jarl the Neatherd, and this bit ought not to be in — 
I don’t even know that they had curlers and twiddly- 
bits in those days. 

As I was saying before you interrupted me. Lady 
Gunhilda the Fair was in her chamber with her tiring 
maids (they called them tiring maids, because they 
made one so tired — they moved so slow and talked 
so much ; that is like girls, you know). Oh, yes — the 
saga, certainly. 

Well, there she was, thinking mournfully of her 
dear lost Droma, and whether yellow and green or 


333 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

pink and blue would suit her complexion best, and 
wondering if she should ever see her again, when, all 
of a sudden, it was just as though some one had picked 
her up by the hair of the head — it was most exceedingly 
painful, but there was one comfort, it proved that her 
hair was not false — and she was whisked away through 
the air in the most alarming manner, for the three hairs 
which she had given to Crawilla were being made into 
a powerful spell. 

That proves that however much you may give your- 
selves airs, you should never give hairs to other people, 
especially witches ; and if ever you want to use hairs, 
don’t make spells with them ; spelled hair is not nice 
— jugged hare and jelly is ever so much better. 

That is a little bit which you can cut out and give 
to your mothers — it may prove useful in case I come 
to have dinner with you. But to proceed. We must 
be serious, for we are coming to a serious piece ; we 
are also coming to the end of the story, which is a good 
thing, hence this sudden rush of exuberant joviality. 
But we will proceed. 

Lady Gunhilda the Fair was suddenly and unaccount- 
ably transported from her own chamber to the home of 
Red Sweth, and the warlock was so surprised that he 
could only gasp — 

“ I beg your pardon, have you called, or only sent 
a wire ? ” 

But Crawilla, delighted with the success of her magic, 
gave him a dig with the end of her wand, and as she 
had been using the end to stir up the fire, it was rather 
warm and made him get up very quickly. 

“ Yah, Crawilla ! don’t play joaks,” he said crossly. 
“ Who is this lady, and what does she want ? ” 


334 


THE SAGA OF 


“ I am Lady Gunhilda the Fair, and I want to know 
what you want ? ” said Gunhilda haughtily. “ If 
this is a trick, be sure that my husband, the mighty 
Hilderbrand, will visit his vengeance upon you.” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” groaned Red Sweth, “ more trouble 
now.” 

“ Silence,” said Crawilla to him, and then she turned 
to Gunhilda. 

“ We know very well who you are, Lady Gun- 
hilda,” she said with a mocking laugh. “ You do not 
seem pleased to visit your friends, though before you 
were glad enough to have my aid.” 

“ You wicked witch ! ” answered Gunhilda. “ You 
deceived and tempted me, and through your evil 
counsel I have known sorrow and shame ; but I will 
no longer be your friend ; I despise you.” 

“ AinH she got a temper ? ” said Red Sweth. “ That’s 
the worst of these ladies — you can’t speak a word, 

but they gets huffy like, and Oh ! donH do that,” 

for CrawiUa had cut short his speech, with another 
prod from her wand. 

“ Now, Lady Gunhilda,” the witch said, “ listen to 
me. You are in my power, and I will change you into 
a cat, or a toad, or a bat, or something horrid, unless 
you can persuade your husband to give me Droma in 
your place and to put Jarl to death.” 

“I will not try to persuade him to do one or the other,” 
answered Gunhilda. 

“ Nay, your words give me joy, for they tell me, 
first, that you must know that Droma is back safely 
at the castle, and secondly, that Jarl is there tpo. 
Now for that I thank you, Crawilla.” 

“ You refuse,” cried Crawilla in terrible passion \ 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


335 


“ then you shall die ! Ha, Gunhilda, the moment 
my enemies seek to come against me, that minute will 
I have you taken to the deep caverns beneath the 
swamp, and there shall you be kept and fed on 
pickled snails and worming squirms four times a 
day.” 

“ Wicked witch, I defy you,” answered Gunhilda ; 
and then she suddenly seized the weapon which 
chanced to be nearest to her — we know that she was 
brave — and that weapon happened to be Red Sweth’s 
magic wand, and it was a good thick heavy broom- 
stick. 

“ Hi ! put that down,” yelled Red Sweth in horror ; 
but thwack the wand came, and down he rolled, with 
a yell of another sort. 

“ Be careful,” cried Crawilla, but bang she got one 
right on the tip of her nose, and she too sat down all of 
a sudden ; and then there was a shout and crash, 
and right into the room, through the white-mist walls, 
came the last person that the witch and the warlock 
wanted to see — Jarl Olinson himself, riding on his 
beautiful Windswift, and armed with all the tryst 
weapons. 

“ Yield, vile creatures,” shouted Jarl, though indeed 
it looked as if much yielding was not wanted, for 
Crawilla was holding her nose, and Sweth was holding 
his eye, and they both seemed as if they were rather 
damaged. “ Yield,” cried Jarl sternly, and Red 
Sweth looked up and groaned, and said — 

“Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! Here is a nice how do you 
do ! Oh ! we are all going to be spiflicated this 
time.” 

Now usually Red Sweth told wicked stories, but it 


336 


THE SAGA OF 


happens that he told the truth this time, and if you 
turn over and read the next chapter you will see how 
it all happened, and how the last of Jarl’s foes were 
overcome. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


337 


CHAPTER XXX 

THE END OF THE WITCH AND THE WARLOCK 

J ARL OLINSON was in the warlock’s house, and 
Jarl Olinson looked as though he meant business, 
and was crying out “ Yield ” in the most emphatic 
way. The warlock looked excessively annoyed ; there 
was a great hole in the wall, and he did not like it. 

“ I want to know,” he began, “ what is the use of 
having front doors if people will ride in through the 
side of the house ? And what do you mean by riding 
in at all ? Leave your horse outside on the mat. 
Look how he is knocking all my furniture over, and — 
O ! yow ! Cra — wil-la ! helup ! helup ! He has pricked 
me with his sword.” 

That was quite true ; J arl had indeed given Red 
Sweth a little one to go on with, and Red Sweth jumped 
up, and then “ crack ” came the wand on his head, and 
Lady Gunhilda the Fair had knocked him down again. 

“ Oo ! Oo — er ! I am enjoying myself this after- 
noon,” groaned the warlock. “ Go and give Crawilla 
her share, do, Jarl ; I am not greedy, and I don’t 
want it all.” 

But Crawilla started up and threw her skinny arms 
in the air. Stop a bit. I do not mean that she 
actually threw her arms up, for they were still joined 
to her body ; I mean that she threw her arms up, and 
as that is just what I said I did not mean, you will be 
quite sure to understand me. 

Y 


338 


THE SAGA OF 


“ Ho ! ho ! ” she hissed — very hissy indeed. 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” groaned Red Sweth — very groany 
indeed. 

“ You keep quiet, coward,” cried Crawilla, and she 
too gave Red Sweth one for himself. “ Now you, 
Jarl Olinson, listen to me. I am not conquered yet ! 
I de-ee-ee-fy you still, and still I de-ee-ee-fy you. 
What ho ! all my evil sprites come to my aid — 

Come ye creatures of the night, 

Come and aid me in the fight : 

Toad and newt from out the fen, 

Angry bear from mountain den, 

Wolf so lean and gaunt, that howls, 

As through gloomy woods he prowls, 

Hissing snake, and adder foul. 

Flitting bat, and midnight owl : 

All that’s evil dark and drear. 

Hear Crawilla calling, hear — 

By my spell and by my power, 

Help me now, in danger’s hour. 

All the time Crawilla was repeating this most dread- 
ful incantation, every one most obligingly stood quite 
still for her, while the band played slow music, and 
the man with the limelight turned on the red and green. 
No ! no ! I do not mean that ; I mean that the others 
were so struck with horror by its most awfully awful 
character that they stood still without thinking of 
striking horror back again. There were sounds of 
low mournful wailing — ^like the cats singing at night- 
time — flashes of light and rumblings of thunder ; and 
then, oh dear ! Well there ! Bless me ! There came 
the most wonderful collection of uncomfortable sorts of 
things that ever you saw in all your little lives. Talk 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


339 


about what you see in your dreams after you have had 
six big pieces of cold pudding and five mince pies ! 
Why, dear me, that is nothing to what this lot were. All 
the evil trolls and gnomes, all the frogs, and snails, 
and slugs, and eels, and cockroaches, and ear-wiggy 
things, and giants, and such like; all the wolves, and 
bears, and waspeses, and things of that sort, and such 
like, and so on, and etcetera. And they meant busi- 
ness too ; they glared, and hooted, and growled in the 
most alarming way. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” shouted Crawilla, doing some more 
juggling with her arms. “ Look at my army. These 
are Clan Alpine’s warriors true, and Saxon I am Rhod- 
erick Dhue. Now we will see about yielding ! For- 
ward ! Hang out our banners on the castle walls ; also 
bang out the washing in the back garden, and charge.’* 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed Red Sweth, getting behind a 
big bumble bee and pushing the monster on first. 
“ Charge and — Oh ! Oeer ! You are stinging the 
wrong one, young man. You have got to fight the 
foe before your face, not sting the friend behind your 
back.” 

“ Get behind me. Lady Gunhilda,” cried Jarl, draw- 
ing his big sword. “ Soon will we rid ourselves of this 
rabble.” 

“ Oh ! just hark,” said Red Sweth, “ he calls our 
beautiful army a rabble.” 

But Lady Gunhilda was not going to take any back 
place in this game. She just stood beside Jarl, and 
she used that magic wand in the most skilful manner, 
and then the fight began in real earnest. 

But it was a dreadful combat. Oh ! I forgot to say that 
Wind-swift showed what he could do in the way of 


340 


THE SAGA OF 


fighting, for he stood on his hind legs and he boxed 
most scientifically, and every one that he hit was 
knocked out first time, and did not want any more. 

But brave as the three were, you can’t expect three 
to manage a whole army of giants and things. 

Bears and wolves began to swarm all over them, and 
things were getting very serious, when in came the 
rescue. The giant had arrived, and he crossed the 
swamp with a single stride, and never even got his 
boots muddy. 

And he just gave one puff and blew the mist-house 
right away, so that he could see what was going on. 

Then he set down J arl Hilderbrand, and White Olaf , 
and Droma ; and Droma ran to her mother’s side, 
which by the way happened to be near Jarl, so that 
Droma was between the two — Droma was artful, I am 
afraid — and she began to fight, while Jarl Hilderbrand 
and Olaf, well, if they had been playing Rugby football 
they could not have been braver. My goodness, the 
way they sent their axes whirling round. Talk of 
playing heads and tails after that ! It was heads fly- 
ing one way, and tails another ; and Crawilla began to 
scream and shake her skinny fists in rage ; and Red 
Sweth tried to run away, only Ulf hooked him up with 
one finger and held him nice and tight, safe out of harm’s 
way. 

I am sure that was very kind of Ulf, but somehow 
Sweth did not seem to like it, and he wriggled and 
squirmed, and cried — 

“ Let me go ! Let me go ! I want to go home ! 
It is time I was in bed ! Let me go ! Mother said 
I was to be in when the washing came home ! Let me 
gug-gug-gug-go.” 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


341 

But Ulf did nothing of the kind. He just opened 
his big mouth and growled — 

“ If you don’t keep quiet, you will go in 
there y 

“ Ugh ! Mercy ! Oh, don’t ! and I will be good,” 
screamed Red Sweth, most dreadfully alarmed. “Oh, 
don’t eat me, Ulf ; I am sure I should disagree with 
you.” 

“ I am sure you would,” answered Ulf grimly. 
“ But if you don’t keep quiet, I will risk that,” and 
after this Red Sweth was very quiet indeed. 

Now having his friends come to his rescue made 
a great difference to Jarl, and there was no doubt 
how the fight was going to end. The witch’s army 
was getting hurt something dreadful, and soon all they 
thought of was running away. 

“ Let us escape,” they cried, trying to get away. 

“ On ! On ! Charge again,” cried the witch, seek- 
ing to drive them forward. 

“ We won’t ! Think we are hotel keepers, and 
charge double ? ” they answered. “ You charge again 
if you like, but we are going.home to be repaired.” 

“ Cowards ! ” shrieked the witch ; and she seized a 
passing storm-cloud and jumped on it, whirling up 
in the air past the giant before he could stop her. Now 
it is most likely that Crawilla would have got right 
away if it had not been for Red Sweth. He stopped 
her. 

This is how it was : You see, Ulf was holding him 
by the seat of his — Ahem ! We will say by his clothes, 
at the back, so that he hung down head and heels 
together. 

The boys will understand — they have hung down 


342 


THE SAGA OF 


that way, when they have been climbing over the 
orchard walls after apples, and have got caught on 
the barbed wire. Good gracious ! it does hurt ; 
and it is so very awkward to explain to mother how 
your clothes have got tom just in that particular place, 
and where the piece is that came out. 

But no matter, let us proceed. Well, there Red 
Sweth hung ; and Crawilla not looking in her temper 
where she was going, came whirling just by him. 
Crawilla did not see Red Sweth, but Red Sweth saw 
Crawilla, and he clutched hold of her by her long 
nose and her snaky hair, and held on for dear life. 

“ Let me go,” shouted the witch, scratching and 
kicking desperately. “ Let me go.” 

“ No, no, darling, lovely, beautiful, sweet 
Crawilla. Take me with you,” answered the warlock. 
“ That storm-cloud can carry two easily. Take me 
with you.” 

“ Let go,” again shouted Crawilla. “You will 

have me off in a minute. Let Oh ! There, I knew 

you would do it ! Oh, I wish I could get at you to 
bite you.” For the storm-cloud had tilted up, and 
the witch had slipped off and was held only by Red 
Sweth, who had still got hold of her nose. 

Then Ulf, laughing loudly, grabbed hold of her by 
the back of her neck, and held her also ; and kick as 
they might, there the two were, prisoners. 

The last of the witch’s army were trying to get 
away, but new enemies had come now ; for Vryda 
the Wise, who had known how things were going all 
the time, had come with her good trolls, and with the 
three troll princes, and by the time they had done 
their share, the witch’s friends and soldiers were 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


343 


entirely spiflicated, and the only thing left to do was 
to sweep up the chips, and make the place tidy 
again. 

Then there was a lot of embracing to do, of course ; 
that was only to be expected, and Gunhilda had only 
smiles for Jarl now, and did not trouble the least bit 
that he had once worn the thrall-collar ; and then 
White Olaf said — 

“ I see that good Ulf has our last two foes safely 
in his keeping. Now what shall we do with them ? ” 

“ We must try them properly,” answered Hilder- 
brand ; and Vryda waved her wand and there were 
plenty of thrones and chairs and things for them all 
to sit down comfortable and nice ; and then the King 
commanded Ulf to set Red Sweth down, and bade two 
of Vryda’s trolls bind his arms and guard him. 

“ Now, warlock, what have you to say in answer 
to all your wicked crimes ? ” he said sternly, “ and 
for all the trouble you have caused in our land ? How 
shall you persuade me that you are not worthy of 
being spiflicated right away ? ” 

“ Please, I didn’t do anything,” wailed Red Sweth. 
“ It was aU Crawilla — she made me do it. Oh, I never 
wanted to, please.” 

“ Wicked story,” screamed Crawilla, from between 
the giant’s finger and thumb. “ Oh, I wish I could 
get at you and bite you. Do let me get at him and 
bite him. King Olaf.” . 

“ Silence ! Your turn will come presently,” an- 
swered the King. “ Let those here, who know of 
Red Sweth’s wickedness, tell us their story.” 

Well, there were plenty to do that — Droma knew, 
and Lady Gunhilda knew, and Jarl knew, and Ulf 


344 


THE SAGA OF 


knew, to say nothing of Vryda and the three troll 
princes. But the one who knew most was Crawilla, 
and she screamed out from her place, and told all 
the wicked things that Red Sweth had ever 
done. 

“ Now,” said Olaf, when that was done. “ Now, 
who knows anything about Crawilla ? ” 

Well, they all seemed to know something — more 
about her than even they did about Red Sweth — 
but when they had all spoken, it was the warlock 
who knew most, and he told it, too, without any 
hesitation — 

“ It is quite clear that they are both guilty,” said 
the King, and everybody answered, “ Oh ! quite 
clear.” 

“ It hain’t,” yelled Red Sweth. 

“ Certainly it ain’t,” shrieked Crawilla ; but no 
one paid the least attention to them. 

“Now the question is, what are we to do with 
them ? ” the King went on, and Vryda answered — 

“ Here are a whole lot of charms made by Red 
Sweth, and another lot made by Crawilla. We cannot 
possibly leave them here all the time, or no one knows 
what accidents might take place. Now this is my 
advice ” 

“ Speak, Vryda the Wise,” said the King. “ Speak.” 

“ Well, let us pour all Crawilla’s charms down Red 
Sweth’s throat, and let us pour all Red Sweth’s charms 
down Crawilla’s throat ; and if that does not kill them, 
then cut off their noddles afterwards.” 

Oh ! you never heard people beg, and pray, and 
scream, and shriek, like those two prisoners did ; 
though all the rest laughed and said it was a very 


]ARL THE NEATHERD 345 

good punishment indeed, and a good way of getting 
rid of all those horrid charms. 

“ I won’t have it,” shrieked Crawilla. “ My charms 
are nice ones, while as for that wretched warlock, he 
can’t make a charm to save his life.” 

“ I don’t think he can, now,” said Ulf. “ Nor you 
either, Crawilla.” 

Well, they seized the witch and the warlock ; they 
forced them down on the ground, and they fixed 
pieces of wood in their mouths to keep them wide 
open ; and then, oh dear me ! I am glad I was not that 
warlock or witch. They fetched all the big bottles 
and jars of charms and spells, and they just poured 
it all down their two throats ! 

“ Ugh ! Ugh ! gulp-guggly-guggle-gulp,” went the 
witch. 

“Ugh! guggle, guggle, guggle, gulp, ugh! Oh! 
gulp-gulp,” went the warlock. And then they both 
went together — 

“ Oh ! ainH it nasty ! Oh ! gulp-og-ugh-0000000,” 
and they squirmed and twisted and rolled about, this 
way and that ; and evidently those charms made 
them feel dreadful bad inside. 

But they must have been very strong charms indeed, 
for soon Crawilla was spinning round and round on 
the very tip of her long red nose, and Red Sweth 
was standing on his head and banging his feet in the 
air ; and then, all of a sudden, they both gave a tre- 
mendous jump and landed head first in the swamp, 
so that only their heels stuck out ; and after kicking 
for a moment or two, their feet became quite still, and 
Ulf said— 

“ They are deaded, quite dead,” and stooped to 


THE SAGA OF 


346 

pull them out ; and then, well there — they were both 
gonCy and only their shoes left ! 

Where had they gone ? What had become of 
them ? Who could explain ? 

It did not want much explaining. The poUywogs 
and kelpies, and things that lived in that swamp were 
always hungry ; and they had just been and gone 
and eaten the witch and warlock right up ; and then 
they wished they hadn’t, for the charms began to 
make them ill too, and in a few minutes the whole 
top of the swamp was covered with squirming things, 
with legs and fins and claws and tails, and they all 
wriggled and twisted and died ; so that there was 
not another single monster left there. 

Then the swamp all dried up, and a beautiful 
meadow-land came in its place, with sparkling foun- 
tains, and rippling brooks, and lovely flowers ; and 
that was the last of Red Sweth and Crawilla, and the 
horrid swamp where they had lived. 

Well, now the last of Jarl’s foes were slain, and 
nothing remained to do but to get back to the castle, 
and have the feast and the song, and for Droma to be 
married to Jarl. 

That is the end of every fairy tale, of course. You 
know it is to end in the prince marrying the princess ; 
and all the fairy tale is over when that happens. 

I don’t know why it is, but it is so. You look and 
see, and all the fairy tales end when the prince marries 
the princess. 

Well, come along, let us get back to the castle of 
Hilderbrand, and see the wedding ; and then we shall 
all have to see about getting home. Come on. Next 
chapter, please. 


JARL THE NEATHERD 


347 


CHAPTER XXXI 

THE LAST 

W ELL, after the fight, Jarl and Droma, and 
Hilderbrand and King Olaf, and all the rest 
of them went back to the castle ; and there were 
Olin and Elsper and all the warriors waiting for them ; 
and they shook their weapons in the air and shouted 
aloud in their joy, for they could see that Jarl and 
his friends had been victorious, and that at last all 
the evil things that had troubled the land were con- 
quered, and Norroway should have peace-time once 
more. 

And then the great gates were thrown wide open, 
and the heralds made proclamation that all who 
list might come to the feasting and rejoice, for was not 
Jarl, the king’s friend and brother, to marry the 
lovely Droma of the Golden Hair ; Droma who had 
fought by his side in the man’s game, and who had 
borne wounds and never murmured. 

What feasting they prepared for ! Never had 
been such times in Norroway ; and Ulf the Giant 
waded across the ocean, and invited old Viking 
Blackwolf to come, and bore him and twenty of his 
greatest chiefs back on his shoulder, nor ever let one 
of them be splashed by the spray. 

And Droma had her wound dressed, and then she 
put on her finest robes ; but of all the jewels she 


348 the saga of 

possessed, she only wore the crystal necklet on her 
swan-like throat. 

Also for a mantle she wore her werewolf cloak, 
which had been given to her by Jarl when he was but 
Jarl Olinson, and not lord of all the jarls of the 
kingdom. 

Jarl, too, donned his best war-gear — the armour 
which the troll princes had given to him ; and Elsper 
and Olin were ennobled by King Olaf, and sat in the 
upper hall with the best jarls and their ladies. 

Then came all the skalds and sweet singers, and 
they sang the song of Jarl and- Droma, and this is 
what they sang — 

Skoal I to the Golden-haired, 

Skoal ! to fair Droma, 

Skoal ! to her love and lord, 

Skoal ! to Jarl Olinson. 

Faithful their love has been. 

Through all the storm-way ; 

Now has the joy- time come. 

Now is the peace-day. 

Long shall their deeds be sung. 

Long shall their praise be rung. 

Theme for the minstrel song. 

In ancient Norway. 

Skoal I to Jarl Olinson, 

Skoal 1 to fair Droma, 

Skoal I to the faithful ones. 

Skoal 1 to the lovers. 

Fairest of fair ones she ; 

Bravest of Jarls is he ; 

Long may their joy-time be. 

In ancient Norway. 


349 


JARL THE NEATHERD 

So sang the minstrels and skalds ; and Jarl gave 
them bracelets and necklets of gold for their song ; 
and then came another song — a song that Jarl and 
Droma and Elsper and Olin knew, and only they ; 
for it was the song of the forest voices — the song of 
the trees, and the song of the wind, the song of the 
bird, and the song of the stream ; and it was a song 
that had been sung, long before, to Jarl in his loneli- 
ness — 

Fairest of maids in all Olaf’s kingdom, 

Fairest of all is the Golden-Haired Droma ; 

Sweeter than all is Jarl Hilderbrand’s daughter. 

None are like to her, not in all Norway. 

White is her skin like the snow on the mountain, 

Blue are her eyes as the sky in the summer. 

Sweet is her voice as the song of the skylark. 

True is her heart as the sword of her father, 

Fairest of all the fair daughters of Norway, 
Daughter of Hilderbrand, mate for the neatherd. 

“Sweetheart,” whispered Jarl to his love, “wilt 
thou ever be ashamed of this — that thy lord and 
husband, though Jarl of all the West Coast and friend 
of the King, was once thrall and neatherd ? ” 

“ Nay, love,” she answered, resting her blue eyes 
on his face. “Nay, for then thou wert just as noble 
and brave as thou art now, and I love thee the better 
for this thing, Jarl, my love and my husband.” 

So Jarl and Droma were married, as the fairies 
had said they should be ; and old Jarl Hilderbrand 
shook his head and pulled his beard, and said — 

“ That which shall be, shall be, let who will try to 
alter it. From the first my heart told me that they 
should be wed, and lo ! it is done ; nor do I desire 


350 


THE SAGA OF 


better mate for Droma than Jarl, son of Olin, who, 
though now he is Jarl over me, was yet once my born- 
thrall.” 

“ That is a good word, Jarl Hilderbrand,” answered 
old Blackwolf, “ for he has won his own way, and that 
is better than being ennobled by favour.” 

“ Thou art satisfied now, Jarl,” said Vryda the Wise 
to him later. “ Now do you see why I made you put 
on the thrall-collar again ? It was hard to do then, 
but without it you had remained nameless and land- 
less man, even if you had not fallen into the witch’s 
power, and been berserker or Viking.” 

“Oh! Vryda,” answered Jarl. “What do I not 
owe to you for giving me the shoes of Patience and 
Duty, even though once they hurt my feet to wear.” 

“ Yet they lead all who wear them aright, Jarl,” 
answered Vryda. “ But see, the wedding feast is 
prepared, and we must not keep the guests waiting.” 

So the feasting began, and the songs were sung again, 
and then Jarl and Droma went to the palace, which 
the trolls had built on the spot where once the house 
of Harold Wolfang had stood. 

And long did Jarl and Droma live there, beloved 
and honoured of all ; and many were the deeds of 
valour that Jarl did for Norroway, and long did he 
and Olaf remain friends ; and when at last the White 
Olaf was slain in the great sea battle which he fought 
against Jarl Eric the Norseman and Svend the King 
of the Danes ; then long did Jarl Olinson mourn that 
he was not by his friend and brother’s side in the 
peril hour, but Olaf had sent him on an errand of war 
far northward; and Jarl, though he hurried fast, 
could not get back in time to join Olaf in that last sad 


JARL THE NEATHERD 351 

battle, when he was betrayed by Jarl Sigvald, and led 
to his death. 

Now this is the saga of Jarl the Neatherd, who 
was bom-thrall to Jarl Hilderbrand, and who himself 
came to be Jarl of the West Coast, under Olaf, called 
the White. 

Of his childhood and youth — of how he wrestled 
with Harold Wolfang and went holmgang with Black- 
wolf the Viking. 

Of his fightings and warrings — of how he conquered 
Ulf the Giant — of his friendship with Vryda the Wise 
and his love for Droma of the Golden Hair — of his 
vanquishing the berserker — of his journeys and perils 
— of these and many other things. This is the saga. 

Just a little bit to finish up the last sheet of paper. 

Well, there, the story is done. Now we have got 
to say good-bye for another year. 

Is it tme ? Well, now, I really cannot say. There 
were some strange things happened in that old Nor- 
roway land, if we can believe all we read. This I do 
know, that King Olaf lived, so I suppose Jarl lived 
too. 

But it is true in another way — in our own lives 
— for we all have to wear those shoes of Patience 
and Duty ; and it is only if we keep them on that we 
are going to succeed. 

Now about Ulf ? Well, you will find that the 
biggest giant and the most cruel enemy of all is Self ; 
and till we can conquer him we shall never reach 
freedom and honour, and we want, well. Effort and 
Resolution, and love like Droma’s love, to help us ; 
and we want the friendship of those three troll princes 
— for I think we all need them, and their names are : 


352 THE SAGA OF JARL THE NEATHERD 

Temperance, Honesty, and Courage — Courage gives 
us the brave swift horse, and Honesty gives us a 
good shield, and Temperance gives us good weapons 
and strong arms to use them. 

And what about that necklet ? Well, now, that 
crystal necklet is called Purity, and so long as we 
wear that round our necks, no evil witches can do us 
any real harm. 

Now that is all — the paper is used up — the Printer 
is waiting — so good-bye, and a merry Christmas and 
a happy New Year to you all. 

THE END. 



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